Paroxysm
by xLilim
Summary: Complete / Thirteen Series, Part 1: They say one must die before they are reborn. IchigoOC, non-canon
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or its characters, only the OCs, their origins, and the plot.

**Warnings**: violence, character death (this will make sense at the progression of the story), undecided rating

* * *

**Prologue, **"Death"

* * *

Sirens blared in the dead of night. Louder and louder, they grew as an ambulance neared the bloodied scene with their flashing red lights alerted unsuspecting bystanders.

Noisily and noisily they approached a scenic automotive accident that should have been her death. Blood was splattered along the asphalt in the most artistic of ways—it almost seemed…_premeditated_. From the many corridors, many stairways, many minds, many imaginations of any individual with masterful creativity—the form, the blood, the way she failed to lose consciousness as the pain turned unbearable—her twitching, battered form read masterpiece.

Any painter could immortalize what she considered should have been the day of her death. Any artist, really. A musician could write poetic lyrics or a poet could scripture wonderful verses in her honor, maybe a novelist could paint the scene in one of their future bestsellers. She would surely be worthy of inspiration then.

Normal, sickly Wakatsuki Haruka always paled in comparison to the rest—in terms of beauty, presence, and personality. Those around her always shone brighter with their bigger personalities, their god-like beauties, and their unforgettable presence, but her twin brother was the brightest. In a constellation of stars, he would be the one blinking to make himself known. If he were a singer, he would have the most powerful, moving voice. If he were an inventor, he would certainly be the best.

She paled in comparison, but…if he were any of those things he would help her stand out, too. He would urge her to blink if she was a star, he would force her into a duet to show her talent, and he would create a concoction to make her smart, too.

So it seemed illogical that her brother—who would do anything to make her shine as bright as he—would purposely push her into a moving vehicle.

But he did.

He pushed her hard enough for her to stumble over her clumsy feet and reached to her with a slower arm while crying out her name.

"Haruka!"

He yelled at the top of his lungs, but his voice was drowned out by the brakes screeching loudly, the car spinning out uncontrollably as her motionless body rolled off the roof and hit the ground with a seemingly noiseless _thud_. The car crashed straight into a lamppost, windows shattered, and screams sounded.

The bulb overhead flickered and flickered until it shrouded the car along with its wounded passengers into darkness.

By that time her field of vision had blurred and her body had grown cold. Arashi, her brother, had frantically rushed to touch her dying, picturesque form when the raindrops started falling…only they were on her face. He whispered for her to stay conscious but he may have hoped for her to lose it.

Maybe it was his _special _way of helping her.

She could be every artist's desire—the inspiration and motivation they have searched for years to find—or a sick necrophilia's best fantasy. Whatever it was…maybe, it was perfection.

She might be on the news, too.

Wakamura may or may not regret bullying her all throughout middle school.

Takahashi might once say, "I dated her for a week in Eight Grade. She was a horrible kisser."

She was. Oh, she bet her money she had been. If anyone could see the look on Takahashi's face it would have been easy to understand its reason.

Her father will certainly be sad. The same could be said about the team of doctors in charge of her. Kurosaki and Ishida, was it?

_My memories are hazy now…is this it?_

She was dying anyway and it might have been an uglier scene.

She has been suffering for a decade now with an incurable illness, slowly but painfully rotting from the inside out.

Haruka blinked her somnolent eyes.

They wouldn't focus.

It was useless.

Suddenly, the sirens started blaring, they were getting closer and closer, and every time they got nearer…she found them annoying.

Annoying enough to induce sleep once the pain turned numb and there was nothing left but the trickle of blood all around her body.

_I think I broke a bone or two._

_Maybe_, she thought as her vision started going black, _death can be beautiful, too._


	2. Escaping Reality

**Chapter One, **"Escaping Reality"

* * *

Deep within an uncluttered room on the top floor of the mansion with freshly painted white walls once sat a girl whose fingers held a brush dabbed in yellow oil paint. Sitting at the top of a high latter beside the wall, the dim sunlight streaming in from the gargantuan windows which held no drapes allowed a hazy glow to illuminate the room, her brush gently slid along her canvas to carefully outline the musings of her mind, an entryway of hope, a single portrait of remembrance in full of color.

One day there won't be enough room to amuse her lingering hope and it would vanish as quickly as it arrived. No more white walls waiting for redesign, no canvases left to clutter in her upstairs storage, no more inspiration, and life would lose its luminosity. But her hands continued working, trembled in exhaustion, but the numbing feeling never disabled her. She could paint this entire room of wonder, introduce its visitors to a world of her own where there is only life, and they would gather and admire her hard work. And they would meet to speak fondly of her and pat her father's shoulder with melancholic expressions and would say her presence could be felt all around.

Wakatsuki Haruka understood she would die at the age of ten, but knew her illness had no cure when she was only six and would have none of it. She tore her coloring books, painted family pictures black, and told her parents she was dying because of them. It had always been their fault, she told herself during sleepless nights, because they were never around to care for her properly.

"How does this look?" she asked lightly, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.

She painted alone, but always had a spectator watching through the aperture of the double doors.

Arashi, her twin brother and sole companion in their gargantuan home, entered with his eyes fixed on her canvas. "Almost perfect."

"Almost," she repeated, light blue eyes fixed in wonder of the half-finished dandelion on the wall. "Yes, almost."

One could almost see the finished product.

It would be like the first day of spring.

Except, it would be perfect.

* * *

Wakatsuki Haruka never anticipated waking from death.

Crystal blue orbs flickered side to side behind half-opened lids, light brown hair sat in a ponytail on her shoulder, and her body's immediate response to her sudden consciousness came in waves of excruciating pain. The haziness of somnolence parted within subsequent seconds and she familiarized with her surroundings. White walls covered in medical verbiage she read about a thousand times whenever her illness spiked, uncomfortable hospital bed stuffed with pillows to support her broken leg and arm, and a half-drawn musky green curtain sat beside her heart monitor, respiratory machine that plugged into her nostrils, and bags of clear liquid on silver hooks.

_Where's dad?_ Her eyes searched her all too familiar hospital room once more but found nothing that suggested the presence of any visitor.

She took a deep breath, clear air filled her lungs and the pain settled as they expanded enough to burden her bruised ribcage. The ache quickly replaced the disappointment once etched in her expression. And soon…she closed her eyes slipping into light slumber.

Life chose to torture her longer. _How much longer, exactly?_

At six she had been mistakenly diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a medical disorder that is known to cause chronic widespread pain and allodynia, and was given prescription medication that soothed muscle cramping until her body rejected them. Behavioral intervention or any other medication either worsened her condition or showed no improvements as she started showing signs to sunlight hypersensitivity.

More tests were run; more mistakes were made…until finally, after moving for the thousandth time…her present doctor put a name to the disease: systemic lupus erythematosus. There was no cure. She would die eventually, even with the medication. It helped reduce the flaring—_periods of illness_. At ten she was only showing minor symptoms as she spent long months of remissions without flares and even forgetting she had the disease, but when it came…it was harsh.

If she described her SLE now, she'd say it was Hell. Flares were Hell. Swallowing pills was Hell. Being rushed into the emergency room was Hell.

Her lifestyle underwent plenty changes with the coming of SLE. At eight, avoiding sunlight had become a part of her treatment as it knowingly exacerbated the disease. While Arashi, her healthy twin brother, dizzied himself with all the running he did outside and stunk of sweat and sunlight, she would sit under the heavy shade of an umbrella with their maidservant on standby. Most times she was bedridden; dizzy herself with all the medication.

She was never allowed to participate in physical education at school, excluded from doing anything potentially dangerous to her health, and was driven to and from school in a black car with tinted windows. She was forced to carry an umbrella or wear a hat underneath the heavy sunlight.

She tried home school. She thought it best until she noticed how Arashi's friends started visiting their home. Some of them slept over countless times and she started feeling as though she wanted the same. She wanted friends she made not those he introduced to her. She petitioned to her father after snagging Arashi into vouching to care for her. He refused without consideration. Her mother promised to talk to him after she confided her reasons for asking something so drastic.

Her mother talked to him. He refused.

So she annoyed him, bombarded him with reasons and pleas, and nearly gave him an ulcer before he finally agreed to enroll her into Arashi's school.

She started school in the summer as a second year in middle school and something must have gone wrong since she only made a friend for each gender aside from the mutual acquaintances she shared with Arashi. Takahashi and Enomoto thought her to be a slight eccentric, the complete opposite of her brother. She was quiet, pessimistic, stubborn, and supposedly had built a nearly impenetrable wall around her that dissuaded everyone's attention, turning her invisible.

She joined the Art Club, as she had notebooks filled with sketches at home, and met Wakamura-san…her hellion nightmare.

Wakamura was in her homeroom in Karakura High, too. They would be juniors soon. It was now autumn, nearly winter.

She was a persistent nightmare.

The day before her accident Wakamura asked her a simple question. "_What's my favorite color?_"

Haruka stared at her blankly for an entire minute before proffering an answer. "_Blue_."

"_Bzzt—wrong!_" she chanted and proceeded to take her schoolbag and toss it into the river as her crew of friends nearly cried from the laughter.

Luckily, she had her cellphone in her skirt pocket. She called her brother and lied about it accidentally falling into the river. If he knew of Wakamura and her posse of followers, he would lynch them—maybe. He acted soothingly protective when he wasn't plotting her death—pushing her into a moving vehicle as of late, and previously shoving her into the ditch the gardener dug. Her arm was still sensitive when the car accident happened, which caused more damage to the bones.

He meant well, she hoped.

He wanted to help her cause somehow.

She wouldn't be lost in a clutter of stars because he would find her. She knew it.

* * *

Hospitals.

She dreaded them, though she had long ago grown accustomed to the horrendously cold air, sickly smells, bad food, and obnoxious daytime nurses. She did like one thing about them, though: the attention.

Her father, Wakatsuki Hiko, who spent most of his weeks holed up in a recording studio producing music for big stars would hire a stand-in, ignore all his business calls, and drive seven hours to Karakura Town to shower her with gifts and his undivided attention. He would sit at her bedside and read her excerpts of old books until he fell asleep cramped on her bed that it would take her doctor, Ishida Ryuken, to force him out of the room whenever visiting hours concluded. Sometimes the white-haired doctor merely dismissed her father's presence to have him out of his building before he polluted it with whatever make-believe diseases he created.

Most times, Ryuken would reprimand her for ignoring his orders, especially when her condition worsened. He brought her back to life twice in her sixteen years. Twice. He said he wouldn't do it a third time. But she there others who brought her back many other times. She never stayed dead.

She wasn't as surprised as any normal person would be upon hearing those words. The adults spoke in code at times and though she listened to them for hours while feigning sleep she never figured it out. She quelled her curiosity from spiking during those moments to stop her from overanalyzing the situation and sat peacefully awaiting death.

She accepted it, but she tended to rebel against her understanding.

Haruka reopened her glassy eyes to the sight of vibrant colors littered across her plain hospital room. Vases bulging with an assortment of flowers sat at the far end of her room on a desk and besides her, sitting on a chair, was Arashi with his head on her bed. His sepia brown hair sat in complete disarray about the contours of his face and his slumberous eyes were shut. His expression was tranquil.

Arashi wore his school uniform: white shirt, pants, and his gray blazer thrown askew over her legs.

She placed a hand on his head, thin fingers tangling between the waves of his hair, and left it in place as she admired the beautiful array of flowers decorating her previously boring hospital room.

The television was on, a commercial was playing and the hum rang in her ears.

Arashi woke calmly from momentary sleep and yawned.

"You should be at school," she whispered warningly.

He lifted his head and took her hand in his gently so she could feel the calluses in his palm. Her fingers twitched delightedly as he smiled. "I wanted to see you, so I couldn't concentrate."

"I hope you didn't use me as an excuse."

He shook his head. "I skipped after first period."

"Dad will be livid."

"Let him be."

The simplest things could delight her, so long as he showed up with a smile on his face, so long as her brother continued being this kind, overachieving person he had always been and not someone that pushed her in front of a moving vehicle or tried burying her alive.

She felt no anger towards him, not a single drop.

It must have been the oddest thing.

"When can I go home?" she asked suddenly.

Arashi kept his eyes on the television as he answered, "In a while."

"Was the school informed?"

"Uh-huh."

"Will you be picking up my assignments during that time?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Where's dad?"

"Home, probably."

"Did he say anything about visiting?"

"Dunno."

Haruka remained quiet instead, though many other questions popped into her head and begged to be asked. Arashi was not listening, anyway.

* * *

Before visiting hours were over her father appeared at the door with his blazer draped over his arm and a red bag in his hand. He approached her bedside, ran his fingers over her bruising face with a smile, kissed her forehead, and took a seat atop the lousy mattress. The weight of his body moved her form uncomfortably, but she forced a smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Out of it," she answered truthfully. "Pain medication, I guess."

"You took a pretty hard hit, you'll be in here a while."

"I know."

Hiko pulled the red bag onto his lap and took out a sleek black sketchbook to show her. "I brought you this," he said quickly, "and everything else you might need."

"Thank you." He pushed the contents back inside and handed them to her as she inspected the rest of the items inside, pencils and a color pencil kit she had lying around her bedroom. "And the room?"

"Oh, right." He fished out a key from his pocket and placed it into her hand. "I locked it when I returned."

"Thank you, again." She dropped the key into the bag and tucked it at the side of her bed.

Her father remained silent, running his fingers through wavy blond locks and stared absently at the adjacent wall. Dark, charcoal eyes scanned the poster tacked upon its white surface and a mixture of emotions smoldered them.

She dug out her sketchbook and flipped through the pages. Everything drawn on every page was an outline of a portion of the paintings she did within her large home, colored by pencils and shaded heavily so that the invert imprint of every picture was smothered behind the previous. Her newest works were near the end of the thin book with half-finished sketches and half-colored entries. The first piece that was set to go onto the wall of her newest project: a field of dandelions colored with a paler yellow and enhanced by a soft swirl of green.

She had already begun her project days prior to her accident.

"Was your brother here?" asked Hiko.

She blinked, sticking a finger between the pages of her sketchbook as she closed it. "Why?"

He growled as he stood. "He skipped again, didn't he?"

"Is he skipping class again?"

It was no surprise. Arashi tended follow the beat of his own drum even if he outshone her in various aspects—great at sports, fantastic scholar, confident, and strong—yet he lacked vital motivation to continue overachieving. His interest laid elsewhere. Even she didn't know. What she did know is that he wandered out of their large home in the middle of the night and sometimes tended forgot to return, other times he came back in the middle of the morning. He would climb the vine-covered archway, balance on the thick branches of an oak and scamper toward the side of the house where her bedroom was located and would knock on the glass doors of her tiny balcony. If she did not wake, he would call her cellphone, which he would tuck underneath her pillow before leaving and raise the volume.

He skipped classes, _accidentally _forgot prior engagements, tended to ignore the people flocking all around him as his glassy blue eyes stared onward in wonder. He could be popular if he smiled more often, or at least regarded his peers. He only did acknowledge them with ill intent. Borrowing notes he missed by flirting with one of his groupies, talking a member of the track team out of participating in the next meet with the same sweetened smiles and clever manipulation skipped out on Karate Club, or buttering up to the class nerd to get answers on the next big exam. He made up classes he missed by following his own set of rules.

No lectures or punishments could set him straight. That was as far as she understood. Asking him to get a hold of himself would be like telling a tiger to lose its stripes.

Haruka wondered what made them so different aside from the obvious gender differences. They had the same face, same eyes, same hair, similar thin builds, and their strange ideas tended to go with one another like pieces of a puzzle.

Yet…their dissimilarities were greater.

She might want a reason—aside from cheap fantasy—to believe she had not been pushed into the road aware that there were dozens of speeding vehicles passing.

"Yes, he has."

"How long?" she asked.

"I don't know." He searched his coat for his phone and crossed the room. He held the door after stepping out and turned to her. "I'll come right back."

He did that often, lie. He wouldn't be coming back.

Arashi could effortlessly take their father's attention and he would later refuse to return it.

* * *

Haruka missed the conclusion of her school's term and returned home during the short vacation between the end of the school year and the start. Her father hired a private tutor that would help her through the school's curriculum to ensure her place among the juniors come next term.

She spent her Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays busily studying with a stringent woman with slight wrinkles and a thick accent in a vacant room that echoed their voices. The rest of her days were spent inside her project room where she would pick up her brush and continued adding more color to its bleakness during which her brother would sit by to criticize her progress.

("The flowers should be paler. That is the wrong sort of green. You'll never finish at this pace. Paint over it with white, that'll never work out.")

And she had one answer. _I know._

Eventually she would bore of the monotony.

"Translate this into English…"

Her eyes flickered upward to her home tutor and back to her books as she read up to where the woman was dictating. She opened her mouth and offered a poor, hesitant translation to the sentences the older woman had chosen.

"No, no, you would say it more like…"

But she wasn't listening anymore. Her eyes flitted to the aperture of the double doors, to the figure of her twin brother glancing in as he fled to his upstairs bedroom with a girl at hand.

* * *

"You saw her, didn't you?"

She feigned ignorance. "Who?"

"_Her_," he emphasized.

Haruka continued drafting out the next piece of her mural with the sketchbook on her drawn up legs atop a comfortable couch. She remained expressionless, but fully concentrated in overlapping the lines _just right_ to create texture.

"Hmm?"

Arashi sat across from her on their father's favorite armchair, the buttons of his shirt undone and his brown hair dripping water onto the wooden floorboards. He had both legs over the armrest and his neck craned to face in her direction, gauging her reaction.

"Are you telling him?"

The scratches of her pencil on paper were the only sounds in the elegantly furnished living room.

They lived in a western-styled mansion in the outskirts of town in a mountain road that overlooked the vast homes and shops within Karakura. The clean mountain air would do her deteriorating health some good. That was what her mother said when they moved there from a Kyoto ryokan her grandmother owned. A month after speaking those words her mother was killed. How? Her father refused to disclose that information, saying the death was too horrid to speak of.

Her mother was a liar. The stuffiness of their gallant home worsened her health as she was usually advised to stay behind closed doors, unless school or hospital visits were the reason for her outings.

"Telling him what?"

"That I brought a girl to my room."

Annoyed, she let the pencil fall onto her lap as she got to her feet abruptly. "Stop heckling me."

She allowed her irritation to influence the tone of her voice as she stomped toward the doorway out of the room.

Arashi did not remain quiet.

"I'm trying to talk to you, Haruka!"

She ignored him and headed upstairs where his screaming voice could still reach her ears.

You cannot ignore him.

* * *

Summer started with heavy rainfall that lasted as long as two to three days, the overbearing humidity and heat followed.

Haruka had been sitting at the foot of her bed when the first rain started pelting against her balcony doors, the oak trees leaves rustled noisily, and the sky dimmed while turning an ominous gray. Swinging her legs back and forth, she refocused her attention to the television in front of her. She had clicked through every channel after she had grown bored of doing just about anything and found nothing interesting to watch. Then again, she was never too keen on televisions shows. None attracted her attention.

She turned the television off and thought of what to do.

She paced the long corridors and fingered the decorations: flower vases, original paintings, tabletops, and antiques. She sat in the counter of the kitchen and watched the cook begin dinner preparations. The housemaid, Ueda, talked to her hours on end about the butler and what he has been doing when everyone's back was turned. The butler…well…he merely asked her to sleep, as she looked pale.

Shortly after she ventured into her studio, the attic turned solitary workplace, and pulled up a clean, average-sized canvas. She sat on her highest stool and stared at the white surface for hours as old rock songs blared from the stereo a squared table underneath the tiny attic window. She held a palette in her hand with globs of pain in the makeshift sections and she waited for inspiration to strike.

It did not.

The house grew smaller and smaller until she felt coddled by it.

When Haruka returned her bedroom, she found Arashi spread out over her bed.

"Are you bored, Haru-nee?"

She ignored him and plopped onto the edge of the mattress.

"You still mad at me for yelling at you, aren't you?" he questioned in mock gloom. "I'm sorry, Haru-nee; I never meant to scream at you. It's just that you never tell me how you feel and…you just piss me off."

He spoke them so innocently grieving it hurt.

"You understand, right?"

She stared at her swinging legs instead of answering.

"I tell you how I feel all the time, like now; I am feeling rather_ melancholic_ because you're not speaking to me. See?" He nudged her with his foot. "How do you feel, Haru-nee? Are you bored? Lonely? Sad? Angry? Miserable?"

"Stop taunting me," she said softly.

"Taunting you," he scoffed. "I am not! I am trying to help you!"

She said nothing.

Arashi grumbled noisily as he turned onto his back.

She stood quickly at the spark of an idea.

Her brother went out wherever he wanted so it would not be wrong if she did the same.

It was late afternoon as she pulled a leather jacket over her plain white dress and tugged on a pair of boots as her brother avidly watched her rush through the process. She left her golden brown hair in messy waves and stuffed a portion of her savings inside a gray satchel.

Arashi bit back the laughter as he spoke to her, "Isn't it a tad bit dangerous for you to be rebelling, Haru-nee? You're not in the best health."

She draped her bag over her shoulder and closed it shut. "I am healthy."

"And if you have an attack out there?"

"Then I'll die."

His smirked grew wider as the door slammed shut behind her. As her heavy steps vanished in the long corridor, he took his cellphone from his pants and called a friend.

If falling victim to a possibly premeditated attack had not scared her, having a seizure in the middle of nowhere would not do the trick.

* * *

Haruka snuck out the backdoor and took the garden trail past the hedges in front of the mansion and onto the street lining the other equally grandeur homes. She turned once to see her brother staring down at her from one of the front windows with a dark look and a wide smile curving his lips. She kicked her feet up and rushed down the sidewalk.

There was a bus stop down two blocks away; she saw it every day on the drive to school and back. The buses came and left every thirty minutes to different districts within Karakura Town and as she never actually paid a visit to anything there apart the hospital, the clinic, and the high school.

So she grew excited the second she stepped foot aboard an empty bus. Her stomach fluttered as she paid the fare with some change she found at the bottom of her satchel from all the melon bread she bought during lunch. She took a seat in the middle and listened to the noisy hiss of the bus as it started toward down the curving road.

She watched the sights change and the sky turn a pale gray. Images blurred past her curious eyes, reflected upon their surface until they slowed with every stop of the bus and boarding of new people.

By the time she chose to get off the bus was full and she stumbled onto the sidewalk with her satchel clutched tightly against her chest. From there she wandered street by street until she found the shopping district and stared in awe at the many fashionable girls passing by individually and in groups.

One glance at her wardrobe confirmed how out of place she was among them.

Haruka shook the thoughts out of her head and moved towards the shops aligning the street closest to her. She bought from a few stores. One was a boutique where she bought a silver chain necklace and a tarot card guide (to decipher the deck her grandmother gave her for her thirteenth birthday). The second was a bookstore at the end of the block where she read the back of various novels and carried a stack to the counter to realize they were ten percent off. The third shop was a video game store where she bought a PC game. The fourth shop she bought from was a CD store where she practically splurged.

By the time she explored enough stores to make her dizzy with glee the sky had clouded and the heat stilled as the afternoon concluded. A rumble sounded as she stood in the middle of the shopping district in front of a garden of flowers and she watched as those around her began pulling up umbrellas to shield them from the coming rainfall.

Droplets fell atop her blinking eyes a second after and she quickly wrapped her jacket about her frame and headed towards the closest café to finish her day out.

It would be frowned upon when her father found out. He might already be making his drive back from work to give her a stern talking to, which worked on her better than anything. She hated frustrating her father who was unhealthily stressed and neck-deep in work. If one took Arashi's constant misbehavior into account, and how horribly that raked on the man's back, one could understand the sort of Hell he lived in. And she realized shortly after thinking it that that sort of opinions paved her father as a bad man who considered them a burden. How else could one discern their situation?

Wakatsuki Hiko showered them with attention when there were sports events for Arashi, parent-teacher conferences, and the medical emergencies for her. Birthdays? No. They spent those in the kitchen alone where they would help the cook bake a cake to their preferences. She enjoyed banana-flavored cake while Arashi preferred chocolate. Their father would call the house and speak with both for five minutes each before excusing himself to work. The next time he would show he would buy them one gift, whatever they wished, no matter how pricey it was. He might feel it satisfied them or pardoned his offense, after all, March was a busy month every year since the day they were born.

She enjoyed her share of attention and would gladly give way for another accident to grant her more. She was not satisfied in thinking her father was a bad man that cared very little about their family or that they were on the brink of falling apart. With every passing month Arashi grew rebellious, but he had started showing signs since their mother died in that unfortunate incident neither one of them knew of. He might have started before then. And her condition was worsening.

That accident did something that slowed the process of subduing the illness so an increase of seizures awaited her in the near future. Her medication intake had increased during her period of recovery and she was admonished for being so clumsy when in reality she could be as graceful as a ballerina.

Yet she refused to acknowledge the mere notion of being a part of a dysfunctional family.

Pretending everything was fine seemed to be the best she could do.

She was good at that, excellent, actually.

Haruka took a window seat and held the menu up as a smiling young waitress trotted up to her with a writing pad and pen in her hands.

"What will you be having today?"

"Hmm." She glanced over her options again and placed down the menu. She looked up to the cheerful waitress. "Banana cake."

The woman scribbled it down. "And to drink?"

"Uhm, whatever you recommend."

She smiled brightly and bounced away to prepare her order.

It was worth it after all.

Escaping reality.

* * *

Arashi's cellphone started blaring three hours after Haruka decided to go on her little adventure. He figured the maid told the second after he rushed around throwing a tantrum about the mansion in search of his twin, feigning ignorance. The housemaid, whatever her name was, tended to overreact when things concerned Haruka and well…he was no fool…she had every reason to exaggerate now. Haruka was a stupid child. She was prone to do stupid things on her own.

He picked up his phone to the grumbling sound of Hiko's voice. "Where is she?"

He drew the phone away and cleared his throat. He took his jacket from his seat and dropped the controller of his game to the ground. "I'm about to go look for her. Don't worry 'bout it."

"You're supposed to keep an eye on her."

"She's not a kid, I'm sure she has enough common sense to avoid the side of the road." He smirked mockingly as he headed out the door while sticking his wallet into his back pocket.

"I have asked you not to speak of your sister that way."

"Yeah, yeah."

He rushed down the steps and signaled to the frantic housemaid of his outing. She offered to ask the chauffer to take him but he refused. He took an umbrella by the door and ventured onto the stormy evening with it drawn over his head. During that time his father was mouthing off an uninteresting lecture that led to a serious of yawns on his behalf on his way onto the street.

"Forget it!" Hiko decided finally. "If you find her bring her back immediately! I'll be back in Karakura in another hour."

The line went dead.

Arashi shrugged his shoulders and dropped his arm at his side, cellphone clasped firmly.

"It'd be troublesome if they find her." He looked at the blinking screen of his phone that signaled another text. "Sugahara, again?"

He scoffed and continued down the sidewalk.

He did not intend to look for Haruka.

* * *

Kurosaki Ichigo stared blankly at his father after noting the sudden change in pitch. The rain started coming down hard as he walked downstairs for dinner.

Yuzu beamed at him cheerfully and Karin sat with her arms crossed over her chest arguing about something senseless with their father.

He drew his chair. "What's for dinner?"

"Soba," she said placing a bowl in front of him.

"Again?"

"Yuzu keeps forgetting to get groceries."

"Karin-chan!" Yuzu pouted as she finished placing a bowl in front of everyone and took her seat.

It was probably when he took his chopsticks, all thoughts aside, that he noticed his dad standing by the house phone talking into the receiver with a serious expression. It piqued his interest because his dad was not one for seriousness, not all the time at least, there were occasions but not during random intervals.

He heard bits and pieces of the conversation without wanting to. He was sure Karin had too as she knitted her eyebrows together.

_"How long ago?"_

"Thank you for the meal," he said with his hands together and started eating.

_"She's probably nearby, I don't doubt it. I'll go now."_

"Who was that old man?" asked Karin, giving their father a straight look.

"An old friend," he answered peacefully.

"I didn't even think you had friends."

"That's so mean, Karin-chan! I have friends!"

"Is he in trouble?" asked Yuzu.

"Nope," he said. "Can you save my dinner?"

Yuzu looked a bit discouraged, but nodded and stood to do as her father asked.

Ichigo felt his father's eyes burning a hole in the side of his face.

"Oi Ichigo, why don't you come out with me a bit?" he finally said.

"I'm eating," he answered blankly.

Kurosaki Isshin dropped his arm over his shoulders and wrung him out of his seat. "Come on, Ichigo! Let's go!"

Ichigo struggled against him. "Will you quit that?"

His grip tightened the more he struggled, Yuzu and Karin remained speechless after the door slammed behind them both.

"What do you think that was about?" Yuzu asked quietly.

Karin shrugged her shoulders and went onto finishing her soba.

Outside, Ichigo managed to get out of his father's grip and took a deep breath. "You could have killed me like that!"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," his father answered with a wave of dismissal.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed and he stared at his father seriously, as the cheerful expression on his face vanished. He noticed the feeling at the pit of his stomach, of something strange, something he was unsure of and knew nothing about. The unknown. He had a disparity about that sort of thing after the Aizen mess had settled and he lost his shinigami powers. He knew nothing of the world beyond his normal human life and could do absolutely nothing about it, but he felt satisfied with monotony. He had not grown bored. It was what he always wanted. But it bothered him to know that there were Hollow out there, around his home and beyond it, and though he knew Ishida took care of them…something deep down inside irritated him.

"What is it?" he asked with a frown.

Isshin stared him down for a long, eerie silence before saying, "My friend lost his daughter."

Ichigo stared at him blankly, a bit anticlimactic for his expectation. "So?"

His father seemed to have been struggling with his choice of words. "Well, it's better to look for a missing person in pairs than by one's self."

"Couldn't you tell your friend? She is his daughter."

Isshin's gaze hardened. "She's not like us."

The words passed him by like the gust of wind billowing past them in the pouring rain. "What?"

"I'll explain later."

"Eh?" His father threw an umbrella in his direction and he caught it midair. "Wait—I don't even know what she looks like."

Isshin took the time to fill him into details about this girl, Wakatsuki Haruka, and pointed him towards the shopping district before heading off elsewhere to start his end of the search.

Ichigo didn't have a choice.

* * *

Haruka never anticipated the storm to get so bad. By the time she left the warm café, the winds were blowing and the rain showed no mercy. It swirled with the howling winds and drenched her to the bone as she ran through the streets with a bulging satchel sitting atop her head wrapped in one of the many plastic bags to keep her CDs safe.

She tried searching for the nearest bus stop, eyes scanning her surroundings wildly as the realization dawned on her in the midst of a thick curtain of rain. She could barely see the blurred figures of the other people rushing past, only heard the sound of their feet splashing puddles on the way out of the shopping district.

She was lost. Completely and utterly lost without salvation as she purposely forgot her mobile phone at home for the pettiest reasons and now it returned to give her a nibble in the rear.

She stomped and kicked her foot with an angry huff.

_Could I be anymore stupid?_

She wanted to escape reality, enjoy her first day out without supervision, and now…reality was back. Pouring down on her trembling form until the pelts of rain felt like little needles hitting her skin.

Summer always started with a bang. There was always rain, no questions. During that time she would spend indoors drinking warm tea or milk watching it hit the window while listening to soft music insider her room.

Naturally, she missed her place in the large house again. It was all she knew after all.

Regret and guilt followed close behind to worsen her mood as she stomped down the next street and found a closed off stand with a mantle. Once underneath she rubbed her cold nose with the back of her hand and sniffled loudly as she crouched down to hug her body.

Her father might be worried. He might give her more attention now.

Arashi might say he's genuinely sorry for being a jerk.

Maybe this ordeal was a mere hallucination from all the medicine she had taken before leaving the house. It reminded her that she had not taken the other portion of her medications.

She lifted her head as droplets of water slid over her face and clasped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes moved from side to side taking in the empty streets awaiting her once the storm blew over a bit and let out a miserable sigh.

If she were to die then, frostbite—get creative, you know—there would be no one to see it. And it certainly said more than dying in a hospital bed plugged into machines she couldn't name while consuming medicines she couldn't pronounce.

The car accident seemed more tempting as it could be any artist's dreams. They could call it, "Dyed in Red" or get innovative and present it as, "Red Madness."

"Hey."

What would they call this piece?

'Frost _Bites_', maybe? Too corny, probably.

Blue?

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

Haruka blinked and followed the source of the voice to an orange-haired teenager holding an umbrella over his head. "What would you call it?"

His frown deepened. "Are you Wakatsuki Haruka?"

Her eyes remained doe-like and amazed. Maybe it could be self-titled like an artist's CD. "Who are you?"

He seemed annoyed. He should be after running around so much, but he didn't look the least bit exhausted. She wondered if he was one of Arashi's friends, but he seemed older than them.

"Are you or not?"

"It depends on your answer."

He grumbled beneath his breath and glared at her. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Oh." She knew Kurosaki Isshin and figured that this orange-haired teen was the same orange-haired son the man prattled on about. "Yes. I'm Ha-ru-ka."

"My dad asked me to get you home, so hurry up and tell me where it's at."

She straightened out with her plastic wrapped satchel hugged against her chest. "It's in the mountain area."

He groaned. "Damnit, that'll take at least an hour to walk."

"We can take a bus."

She wanted to get home quickly.

He stared at her evenly.

"What?"

"The buses stopped running an hour ago."

"Oh," she mouthed off.


	3. Picturesque

**Chapter Two, **"Picturesque"

* * *

Wakatsuki Haruka was an oddly quiet girl.

Ichigo mentally admitted to expect someone vastly different—a loquacious girl or a rebellious sort of girl…someone that actually fit the image in his head. Instead, he received Haruka, who had not said anything apart the words they exchanged after he caught up with her. She was the girl that continued walking out from under the umbrella, the one that watched the world like an objective observer rather than a human residing within it and that enjoyed the silence better than their noisy surroundings.

"You seem a little trusting don't you think?" he questioned, breaking their lengthy silence as they walked across the crosswalk once the light had turned green.

"Judging another person based on anything apart their personality would be rude." Her eyes were fixed to the cars sitting on the other end of the street, but one in particular had caught her fancy. She followed it with her gaze even after it zoomed past them once they stepped onto the next sidewalk. It was creatively painted and for a second he saw a tiny smile on her lips. "I hate being rude."

Ichigo determined she was odd, but her principles were high-class and certainly managed to ease the tension he built between them.

She was a curious sort of girl and he started to wonder what his father meant by the words he said before leaving the house.

_"She's not like us."_

Haruka looked human, and even while acting oddly according to society's standards of normalcy she seemed perfectly average. He tried not to think past his human life, so his thoughts ended prematurely. He decided not to question his father's words and continue acting normal himself. He relaxed his tense shoulders and continued leading the way once she had given him curt directions towards her home on the sleek mountain road she had seen a billion times. It took longer because he found her closer to where his home was situated than expected and that was farther than the mountain area.

They ventured up the curving, steep streets and came across a western-styled mansion. She stopped abruptly, forcing him to a halt as he shot another discerning glance at the extravagant home and the lights beaming through the windows, illuminating the entire sidewalk.

He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the stone walkway. "Is this it?"

Her eyes were focused on a black car parked in front of the house. "I should have called the chauffer."

"Chauffer?" he questioned her incredulously.

Haruka gestured to his jacket pocket. "I just noticed you had a mobile phone," she answered lightly. "_But_ walking is healthy, too."

He almost couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. Was that supposed to count as an apology? It certainly didn't sound like it. "Why didn't you think about this earlier?"

She stared at him strangely for over a minute.

"That's a hard question to answer," she said passively, walking on ahead of him down the stone walkway toward the tiny porch of the gargantuan mansion.

The twin doors burst open and a woman in maid garbs rushed Haruka inside after draping a towel over her shoulders. Ichigo noticed his father standing in the hallway, quickly taking notice of his presence and beckoned him over with a jut of his chin. He curiously entered a stranger's home to the stuffy warmth that threatened to smother him and more surprises awaited him indoors. Ishida Ryūken had finished admonishing Haruka before leading her into another room…sparing the orange-haired teen a hint of a jeer. Besides his father was a blond man in a suit wearing exasperated expression as he spoke sternly into his cell phone.

"_I don't care. I'm sending the chauffer to pick you up._" He pushed the phone onto the receiver sitting on a tiny table by the entryway to a new room. Something about the man seemed familiar, but Ichigo couldn't quite recall if or when he met him. "Please have a seat. I'll have tea served." He stepped toward the hall after gesturing to the living room when he turned to Ichigo once more. "Thank you for finding my daughter."

Ichigo blinked. "Yeah, no problem."

Isshin ushered his son into the homely living room and while he wanted nothing but to return home…he had no choice but to join his father on a comfortable couch.

"Why is Ishida's dad here?"

"He's her doctor."

"Is she sick or something?"

Isshin shot him an odd look.

"What?" Ichigo complained.

"She didn't tell you anything?"

"We hardly talked."

His father nodded with a hum and his fingers underneath his chin. "Good."

Ichigo decided not to get comfortable in his seat. "What's this about?"

The door shut suddenly, drawing their attention to Haruka's father as he crossed the room to join them in the couch. "I'll explain," he started, leaning forward with both hands resting on his knees. "I'm Haruka's father, Wakatsuki Hiko." He shot a glance at Isshin. "An old friend of your father's. I asked him to bring you here."

He stared at him confused, but Hiko seemed to have understood as a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. "What for?"

"I ran a proposition by your father concerning you, but instead of giving me a definite response, he asked me to run it by you." Hiko seemed like the sort of man that hated wasting time on any of his propositions and expected a quick response. So he wasn't surprised at hearing the slightest tinge annoyance in his tone.

"I can't very well let you do whatever you want," Isshin commented.

"I don't remember you having any authority in what I do."

"If it concern's Ichigo—" Hiko frowned childishly. "I have to."

"I got it," he stated, exasperated.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, slightly impatient.

"I am willing to pay you an exceptional amount of money per mouth if you would do me the favor of watching over Haruka everyday afterschool for at least an hour," started Hiko. "This household lacks reliable individuals and it is imperative that Haruka is doing something productive when she isn't being tended to by the others."

"The others?"

"The house staff," he answered curtly.

Ichigo thought it was a bit too shady to be a request, but he tested it. "How much for that hour?"

"A hundred thousand yen [**1**]."

"That seems like a suspicious amount for spending an hour everyday with your daughter."

Hiko clasped his hands together and smiled, fully ignoring the undertones littered in his response. "If you decide upon the job, you will realize it is highly paid for a reason."

He wanted to ask more questions, but hell, he was more curious about his reasons than the amount of money. It was hefty and when push came to pull…he needed spending money. It wouldn't necessarily count as a part-time job, but it sounded a lot easier than any other sort of job.

"So I'd be a babysitter?"

"Of sorts," he said lightly. "I'd like it if this situation does not repeat itself and want to keep my daughter as far away from rebelling as possible. I wouldn't want her illness to spike after recovering from her accident." Hiko leaned back into his seat. "So, do you accept? I do swear Haruka is quiet, obedient girl, you'll hardly notice her presence."

Ichigo gave a curt nod. "Fine by me."

"Great. I'll let your father fill you in on the more insignificant details of your job. You may start whenever you wish. I have no hurry as I will be returning home on vacation."

Isshin nodded. "Got it." He patted his son's back hard, getting a grunt out of him and pulled him onto his feet with him. "Then we'll be leaving. It's late and I'm sure you need to have a talk with Ishida as well."

"Yes, of course."

His father quickly said his goodbyes and headed straight for the door without another word.

"What'd you mean earlier?"

Ichigo didn't want to ask it, but the question hung on his tongue making it difficult to avoid.

His father stopped as they stepped onto the sidewalk and turned with a serious expression. He looked a bit on edge and while watching his father Ichigo couldn't help but look around his surroundings upon feeling eyes on his back.

_That's strange._

"I meant to say she's a fragile girl. Haruka is odd, but she's good. She has a tendency of saying things that don't make sense, but she can convince you to believe in her…" Isshin shook his head as if regretting what he just finished saying. He placed a hand on Ichigo's shoulder and proffered a smile. "Don't get too close to her. You'll be disappointed in the long-run."

"What?"

"You'll find out on your own. She doesn't have much time remaining."

Is that it?

Was it because Haruka was terminally ill?

He was exaggerating way too much for a one-hour job. Ichigo thought nothing of it as he walked behind his father, shooting a final glance to the large home before stuffing his hand into his pocket and keeping the umbrella securely over his head.

* * *

Ichigo faced a flurry of inquiries from Keigo after he decided to leave right after school and refused an invitation to go somewhere with him and Mizuiro. He mentioned getting a job and everyone immediately jumped on the topic.

Tatsuki seemed pleasantly surprised. "Ah, so you finally got one?"

Orihime looked more excited about the job itself than anything as she hopped out of her seat with a cheery disposition. She had only just taken a job at a bakery and was happier than ever with being surrounded by treats. "What kinda job is it, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Did you get work as a delivery boy or something?" questioned Keigo, wiggling his eyebrows. "Or maybe you're too embarrassed to talk about it?"

"I only have to keep a girl company for an hour," he stated unconsciously, taking his schoolbag from his desk and watching everyone's expressions change to shock. "What?"

"Like an es—es—" Orihime struggled, her face flushing incredulously.

"Like an escort?" finished Tatsuki, and quickly jumped on the topic. "Are you working as an escort, Ichigo?"

"The hell? No," he quickly corrected. "She's Wakatsuki's twin."

Tatsuki's eyebrows rose. "From the Karate Club?"

"Yeah, that one."

The dark-haired girl leaned back in her chair as Orihime and Keigo stared at the two inquiringly. Tatsuki rubbed her thumb and forefinger together in a crude gesture and smiled. "The Wakatsuki family is loaded, no?"

He shot another glance at the clock. He needed to hurry if he planned to catch the next bus. "I don't know. See ya."

* * *

Ichigo arrived at the Wakatsuki home to be greeted by the house's butler, Fujimoto, and within the next few minutes…after being subjected to a series of necessary inquiries by the man…the housekeeper, Ueda, arrived to interrupt.

"He can always answer your survey after he finishes his work." Ueda, a plump-cheeked woman looked to the orange-haired teen, and smiled sweetly. "Haruka-san is in her bedroom. I'll escort you there."

He made his way up the staircase staring at his surroundings with slight curiosity. He had never been inside a mansion before, but for whatever reason the stairway seemed familiar and a few paintings hung from the walls reminded him of a distant memory, but he couldn't see past the haze. He shook the thoughts from his head and continued following Ueda until she led him inside an ample bedroom. He found Haruka sitting on an armchair with a pair of headphones over her ears and her eyes fixed upward somnolently.

Ueda approached the girl and pushed down her headphones. "Kurosaki Ichigo has arrived."

Haruka leaned backward on the armchair and craned her neck to see him standing there. Her face was void of expression. She quickly straightened out, dismissing the maid who walked up to Ichigo before leaving.

"She just took her new medication," she whispered. "It may make her the slightest bit nauseous, but it's normal unless she says otherwise."

Ichigo nodded and heard the door shut behind him.

Haruka continued staring at him oddly, eyes wavering as if struggling to retain some focus. "You can sit, if you want."

He hadn't noticed he was standing. "Anywhere?"

She nodded. "You can look around, too."

Ichigo walked around the couch set and sat on the loveseat closest to him, placing his schoolbag at his side. The feeling snaking up his back was awkward and he could tell he wasn't the only one. Haruka started shuffling through a magazine in front of the table even while looking as sickly and dizzy as she did. He thought it might have been better to tell her to rest and not mind him, but that might sound wrong. It was easy to misunderstand in the situation drawing them together so he said nothing.

On that first day, no words were exchanged apart from goodbyes.

* * *

When Ichigo came by the second day, dreading the same awkwardness that plagued them the first day, Ueda invited him to the kitchen after he was escorted upstairs to find Haruka lying on her bed asleep. There were dark circles underneath her eyes and her cheeks looked a bit hollow. The loose dress she wore clung to her thin figure and it made him wonder how severe her illness was and whether or not it was okay to ask about her lupus. He kept his mouth shut instead and watched Ueda cut carrots over a chopping block with a bored expression on his face. The housekeeper was a talker, avid in any and all sort of rumors. For whatever reason she reminded him of Matsumoto in that frightening way that assured him she knew a lot about others.

"Is Wakatsuki-san really okay?"

Ueda lifted her gaze. "What exactly do you mean?"

"The SLE."

"Well," she said, putting the knife flat atop the chopping block, "to be completely honest, Ishida-sensei said her condition worsened after the accident."

"Accident?"

He heard about an accident, but nothing had been explained. He never bothered asking either. He might have thought that eventually somebody would elaborate.

"A while ago, Haruka-san tripped onto the street while a car sped by and was hit. Everyone worried about her wellbeing. It's the fifth scare we've gotten, actually. She might not have been saved, but everyone did their best to resuscitate her."

Ichigo leaned onto the palm of his hand and begun wondering about her wellbeing as a whole and everything he was told. There was something suspicious about her situation and he felt a tug of aggravation knowing everyone but he was aware of it. There was an unspoken truth being tossed around like a game of Ping-Pong, swaying back and forth with him as the net—undisturbed and still. He never thought he'd feel that strong an emotion when he first agreed to work there; it was unexpected.

Haruka remained sleeping throughout the hour. He left to meet Keigo after receiving a thousand calls to draw him out of hiding and thought of smacking some sense into him for being a pest.

* * *

On the third day, Fujimoto tried finishing the survey they had begun when he first started, but once again Ueda intercepted and asked him to help her carry a few paintings to the attic.

"What about Wakatsuki?"

Ueda smiled peacefully. "She's sleeping again today," she said. "Her new medication makes her extremely drowsy."

His hour had just begun and he had nothing better to do with Wakatsuki sleeping. He would have been given the option of sitting in the living room or watching Fujimoto prepare dinner (the family cook had taken his vacation, which left kitchen duties split between the butler and housekeeper). There was no word on Wakatsuki Hiko, who had taken time off but immediately returned to work, or Haruka's twin brother, who had club activities afterschool considering he joined Track and Field as well as Karate Club.

Sometimes he felt coddled inside these familiar walls and wondered if Haruka did, too. The house was too large for one person to spend all their time locked away in their bedroom.

Ichigo went up the staircase behind Ueda to the see the paintings in question sitting against a wall—canvases of various sizes, some looked heavier than others, but all equally filled with beautiful drawings. They were all paintings of that home at different angles of many places. He noticed when he heaved a large painting of the mansion from the perspective of a passerby.

"Who painted these?"

"Haruka-san paints."

Ueda heaved a pair of shorter canvases and stared wonderingly at the walls covered in many original portraits. "She's always had an interest in it from a fairly young age and most of the portraits on the walls are her original works." Ueda pointed to a frame besides her of an autumn morning…a walk through a park square where tall trees sat with their orange and yellow leaves. "She finished this three years ago while in the hospital. It's a park in Yokohama."

Ichigo nodded offhandedly.

"It's strange, though, she's never been to Yokohama before. It's hard for her to travel in her condition. She says she used a picture from the net as a reference, but there aren't any in existence of this precise angle or with the clutter of people, and it'd be nearly impossible for her to have access to a computer while staying in the hospital."

That left an odd impression on him as he continued listening to Ueda prattle on about the same subject.

"She does that a lot. She draws places without reference like they're images in her head. Sometimes I feel she's an old soul that actually recalls her past memories, but she only laughs at me and says its nonsense."

"That sounds pretty farfetched, you know."

Ueda stopped abruptly. "But if it wasn't, what would you really think?"

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't sure he would be thinking if considered that a truth.

"Guess you never know."

The plump woman smiled toothily. "Right."

Haruka, once more, slept through the day and Ueda kept him company for the rest of the hour. Within that timeframe, he was allowed into Haruka's cluttered studio. The friendly housekeeper gestured for him to venture into the attic-turned-studio that smelled heavily of paint and was decorated everywhere with colorful canvases-places, people, animals, you name it…she had painted it.

A narrow staircase led straight up to the area spacious enough to house her original works and during his stay there, he had a look around at the items sitting atop the loveseat and a desk underneath the tiny squared window. There was a stereo with old CDs sitting atop its smooth surface and beside it a record player, vinyl albums were neatly tucked inside a box underneath the desk. A tin can held all her paintbrushes on the ground by a tripod holding an unfinished painting.

Ueda clapped her hands as she set the final canvas in place with the rest. "She's an interesting girl," she said, "I promise she is." She looked around the room as he set a CD back atop its stack. "You can probably tell by all the painting here. There are others."

"The ones in the hallway?" he asked.

"No," she said shaking her head. "About a year ago, Wakatsuki-san ordered the largest room in the house to be repainted white and gave her the key on her birthday this year. She's been painting it since then, but she doesn't let anyone inside. Well, except her brother." She wiped her hands on her apron and frowned. "I am getting mighty curious though."

* * *

Haruka was painting on the fourth day.

Ichigo trudged up the stairway to the attic and pushed open the door noisily after it stuck to the frame with all the dried pain sitting on its edges. He stepped into the well-lit studio—tiny, but spacious enough for Haruka to keep most of her paintings—every nook and cranny was full of it, even the tiny red loveseat by the door had buckets of paint, brushes in a cup spilled over, and blank canvases slouched against it. It smelled heavily of oil paint and managed to burn his eyes slightly. The window behind Haruka remained closed with a makeshift blanket draped over it to keep the sunlight out.

Upon noticing his presence, Haruka scrambled off her stool to clear the couch. "Sorry."

He had a good look at her current painting. Dark swirls filled the canvas and many lines fell from the top like a savage waterfall crashing on the rocks.

"You can sit if you want," she said lightly, eyes down. "And keep the door open. I know it must be hard for you to breathe in the room."

"If you want it closed, its fine, I can take it."

She nodded and went back to her seat, picking up her palette and dipping a brush on a dark, metallic blue before gliding it across the canvas's remaining white surfaces.

He watched her for hours trying to discern what she was doing in complete, utter silence unaware that the awkwardness he felt before had dissipated by a grand portion. It might have been because the good Ueda prattled on about overshadowed the edge his dad and Haruka's father had given her. She was a normal girl fighting against an incurable illness that had normal hobbies and acted as any normal girl would in her situation. There was nothing particularly odd about her, except she was incredibly quiet, but that may have been one of her more intriguing qualities. He was more curious about her drawing ability. He wondered if it was worth considering Ueda's words and if they were worthy of extensive thought.

"How much is he paying you?"

Haruka broke the silence.

Ichigo found the inquiry strange…or maybe it was weird for him to think that way. "You want to know?"

"I'm curious."

"A hundred thousand yen the hour," he answered and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his orange hair. "I really don't know what I'll do with all the money, or why I decided to take the job anyway? Isn't it weird that your dad is asking a stranger to watch over you?"

"Babysit," she corrected.

"Well, yeah, that."

Haruka spun around on her stool with her painting utensils at hand. She had paint markings all over the mantel she wore to protect her clothes. "My father said he wanted to buy the attention he could not give me."

Ichigo blinked. "You're pretty honest."

"Am I?"

"That means I'm a replacement for your father."

"I suppose."

She was brutally honest. That last one hurt a bit.

"…but," she continued, pausing, "I think he's afraid of me sometimes."

He watched her gaze fall to her lap to hide the pain in her expression. "Eh?"

"Have you ever heard the adults secreting?" she questioned. "They lower their voices but I can always hear them. They're scared of letting me die."

"That's natural, isn't it? You're his daughter. No father wants his kid to die."

"But I'm not Ishida or Kurosaki's daughter and they are equally worrisome."

She had a point and because of it he wasn't sure he could procure a reasonable response. She remained slouched over her chair with trembling hands and tightly shut eyes. He didn't have words to help her.

They were scared of her.

Maybe his father had been right. She wasn't like them.

Whatever made him think that made him feel regret. He should have never thought of that.

He looked over her shoulder, to the canvas shrouded in darkness, and after a lengthy silence, he broke it.

"What are you painting?"

Haruka glanced behind her, tilting her head slightly.

"If Death perished, the world would fall into darkness. This is his grave. Death's."

A shudder shot through him as darkness mirrored in his eyes.

* * *

[**1**] Approximately $1224


	4. Unmasking Perils

**Chapter Three, **"Unmasking Perils"

* * *

His alarm was blaring like the sound of a siren luring vagabond sailors with her enchanting voice to shipwreck—or simply like the sweet resonance of vengeance. He versed his actions to suit anyone's taste—anything to procure an excuse.

The neighboring couple went on screaming about their vast differences through paper-thin walls, inconsiderate of their twenty-year-old neighbor who plotted equally degrading and bloody murders for the two, or the skittish novelist to their right wearing headphones blasting mainstream music in the hopes to meld her concentration and finish her manuscript. He had watched the woman, hunched over shyly, and knocking so softly nobody heard until he offered her a hand by kicking the door so hard it startled them into silence. He thought of gutting and hanging their bodies from the spinning fan, but something told him even death couldn't settle their differences.

Nagata Taishi continued brushing his teeth before the sink mirror, dark circles underneath his irritated eyes with exasperation imprinted in his expression: eyebrows knitted together, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw locked. He bent forward, taking the toothbrush from his mouth and spit out the blood-tainted paste after opening the faucet. He cupped water into his mouth and rinsed. He finished by splashing more water onto residue paste sticking to the sink.

He moved into the apartment yesterday morning after a series of catastrophic events led to his eviction from his last home. He expected it to be infested upon entering, but after taking one look at the obese landlord and his severe lack of encouragement towards hiring a cleaning service to scrape the murk from the walls and change the tatami to a new set, he decided against complaining. The rent was cheap enough, private, and there was enough room for him. Regardless, he hated the neighbors, the landlord, and the landlord's prissy bitch of a wife, but finding someone he actually considered a breath of fresh air was like finding a needle in a haystack. So he didn't bother with it.

Taishi lived his entire life with misanthropic inclinations and never made any effort to clear the uneasiness and hatred towards humanity that kept him from finishing high school the second after entering it. He especially despised the line of psychologists prepared to psychoanalyze his peculiar behavior from a seemingly tender age. But held severe dislike toward the therapist that counseled him shortly after entering elementary school—a girl intersected his personal bubble upon its establishment to prove to the six other preschoolers he had been bluffing about breaking their arm if they tried invading any inch of his personal space. It was a regrettable notion on her behalf.

He hated liars and had always been proudly honest…where it counted, at least.

He despised the slur of psychiatrics he sat with throughout his entire education, including his final…a balding man that took the job once the woman treating him grew irritable and frightened at the oddity of his behavior. He sat through various uncomfortable hours in a pair of stubby blue jeans his delusional mother claimed to be his favorite while listening to a no-good bastard tell him how irrationally psychotic behavior paves a direct venue to that of a serial killer.

"…"

Sasaki cleared his throat, ran a sweaty palm over his greasy head, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes flicked upward to meet the unimpressed and abhorrent glare of the auburn-haired boy's gaze. His presence bothered him the second he stepped into his office with his two seemingly normal parents, complete with cheerful dispositions and worrisome troubles. He jokingly called Nagata Taishi the spawn of Satan around his office and to professionals of higher standing, but after three weeks of eight, two-hour sessions with the brat…its joke status barely seemed relevant.

_"You see, Nagata-kun—"_

"-_san,_"corrected the boy stringently.

Another throat cleared and heavy silence encased them.

"_…Nagata-san_," he practically forced the respect out of his mouth, "_you're precarious behavior arouses…various opinions of you that have, henceforth, caused many troubles for your parents. And they are stereotypically a lovely couple, in fact, I could easily categorize them as the sort of individuals incapable of doing no wrong, but you can freely assert whatever opinions you have of them. Remember, doctor-patient confidentiality. If you are afraid of our conversations ever being leaked onto a third party, you are gravely mistaken. It is my duty to uphold your trust. And thus, will greatly appreciate if you offered your cooperation._"

"_You know what, Sasaki-sensei?_" he started suddenly, startling the man with the sound of his voice.

"_What is it, Nagata-san?_"

"_…You're the longest shrink I've had, so I'll tell you a story—a good one,_" stated the boy. "_So listen up before I change my mind._"

With his pen at the ready, Sasaki nodded curtly.

"_The boy was four when he realized his life wouldn't span past twenty. Hell, he'd be fucking lucky if he got through thirteen without any trouble._"

By then, Taishi had involved himself with the wrong crowd to further paint a filthy picture in the naïve minds of his parents and had already beaten a couple dozen guys to the brink of death. He watched people at their worst and further expanded a chasm of abhorrence towards those around him. He had no friends or acquaintances. If fools clung to him, it was for a reason. He had power everyone recognized and feared. He was a force of nature one prayed to avoid. He ran with street gangs and within the next few years would have a run in with the yakuza to set his fate in stone.

Sasaki asked no questions as the scratching of his pen raked on his nerves and his begging gaze urged him to delve further into that _story _of his.

"_…but that's not the point. The point is he can see things other people can't. He can read a person like an opened book without ever meeting them and every time he lays eyes on another individual, the amount of trash in the world increases. Humanity is meant to be at the top of the chain, yet they act like animals that settle their differences through war and steal to sate their own selfish needs. Even the good happen to be bad and if there is a good that stands beyond the rest, he finds them hypocritical and annoying. He may be meeting all the wrong people because he hates each and every one of them. If he met the right sort of humans he may look upon them and think, '**well, there may be someone useful in the world**' and he might stop thinking up reasons as to why they should die or how, for that matter._

_"But it doesn't happen. He stops caring about whether or not a simple hope will be realized after getting involved with the filthiest sort of humans—those that kill and steal. Those who think they're gods and can decide what fate awaits you…that can act as Death's Messengers if necessary to ease the sin at hand, or pretend their actions work for a better cause. He starts becoming just as rotten and dirty as they are and his hatred for his own self borders insanity to the point where he is willing to pick as many fights as it takes to get himself killed, but before any of that can be realized he meets a man._

_"The man is old and dresses like he's from a completely different era…like he's been alive longer than anyone else has been. They met at a bus stop. The boy was a bloody mess and was suffering from a minor concussion after some asshole hit him over the head with a steel pipe. He thought if he was normal a blow like that would have killed him, but he already had five years to settle the uneasiness. He was not normal, never was, and that would never pose a problem—_"

Sasaki curiously interrupted, not having noticed he stopped scribbling over his clipboard. "_And the old man? What about him?_"

"_Am I telling the story or are you?_"

"_Forgive me, please go on._"

"_The old man comes after. He looks at this guy as if he expected to find him a bloody spectacle and didn't bother offering to call an ambulance or advised him to see a doctor. He merely turned his gaze onward to a girl standing underneath the umbrella her fat, ugly maid held over her head. The girl was staring directly at the boy, but said nothing in correspondence to her maid's prattling. Their eyes locked for a lot longer than one could deem normal and he felt this shock of electricity reawaken his senses and clear his mind. He thought for a second that he wanted to tell the damn cunt to take a fucking picture, but for the first time in years, he kept his trap shut and his hands wrist-deep in his sullied pants. And he can't stop staring at the girl because her mere presence is like the lighthouse to his ship. He can't shake the feeling or the thought snaking its way into his mind. _

_"'**I know this girl**,' he continues thinking and the old man at his side chuckles, earning a testy glare from the youth which he dismisses with an air of confidence. He took his eyes from the girl for an instant and she was gone, together with her ugly maid, and the street grew empty save the few zipping cars. The bus wasn't scheduled to arrive for another fifteen minutes and his headache doubled over in pain and he had half a mind to smash his ringing cell phone to the wall._

_"The old man stayed in his seat with his eyes fixed forward, '**You know her. You know many individuals in this life which you may have known in a previous and you may despise them, but they are your comrades.**' The boy says nothing and stares the old man down as one would a cockroach. '**He pisses me off**,' he thought callously with a curt, 'hmph.' It amused the old man and it encouraged him to go on spouting nonsense. '**It is reason why you dislike me. You hate the world that cannot accept you for what you are and what you represent among the humans you consider waste. You will not be well until you meet her again, not until she saves you.**' The old man turns out to be a crazy coot that clings to the concept of mind reading and tarot card readings. He offered the boy a view of his world in the form of his droning, self-important, imposing voice. And the kid only hated him more. He was the sort of old man that offered his opinion without being asked for it. He hated people like that. They consider themselves otherworldly and think people everywhere are just standing around begging them to open their mouths. _

_"The old man went on imposing his ideals on him until he grew irritated enough to tell him to fuck off. The man stood, tipped his bowler hat and smiled grandly. He offered another tidbit of advice for the boy, '**You may already be aware of it. I would be shocked if you weren't already, being who you are is of utmost importance in your circle. But as you have given me the time of day, I will forewarn you of you impending death.**' He didn't give him enough time to process the idea or refute with some snappy comment. '**You will die boy and it will be a most painful death, but you deserve nothing but the worst. It is what you claim and it is what you get. But you can change the destiny, skip another generation and stop her from coming forth. There is no need for either one of you this time as I suspect there is a higher power pulling the strings we cannot control. Innocent lives will be affected and casualties may call forth an apocalypse the world is not prepared to witness.**'_

_"**'If you die this time around, die old and resolved. Do not meet her directly. Watch her from beyond. Because if you die, it will not happen once and she cannot remedy the loss. She will perish and with it the Cycle itself.**' He told the boy that if he were to truly face death…he should run until the shadows of men forget of his existence. And just like that the old man disappeared like a whisk of smoke and the boy forgot he talked to him, but he got the answer he wanted. _

_"He was going to die. He established that at four, but there were too many references to a third party that he disliked. But who was he to complain. The man was a crazy old coot that imposed the results of his hobby on him, but at that moment, the boy who could tell everything about a person by just looking at them—could determine whether they were scum or not—hesitated at the notion of being unable to read him like a book. And the girl that once stood across the street was no different. He felt a shock of electricity, instead._"

A long silence preceded the inconclusive end of the tale the teenage boy began and a series of inquiries sprouted in Sasaki's mind.

"_Exactly what is the point of the story?_"

The boy stared at him with cold, blue eyes. "_It means I'm hallucinating as you may have gathered, the story was told in third-person as to protect myself from being judged, but your vast expertise tells you that it is a form of fortification seen in erratically psychotic behavior,_" he stated expertly. "_…or schizophrenia—interpret it as you wish. I could care less._"

Sasaki blinked, perplexed, but ran with it. "_Yes of course._"

"_You should think of writing up that prescription. I just got a text from a girl I wanna fuck_," it was not a suggestion, he ordered the man.

"_Sorry, right away._" He stopped scribbling and looked to him with a quizzical brow. "_Haloperidol or Benperidol?_"

"_Mosapramine,_" ordered the brat.

Sasaki nodded curtly. "_Mosapramine may prove vastly more effective than the other two._"

Taishi slipped back into his bedroom, turning up the volume of his stereo to the grind of heavy music to block the escalating shouts of his neighbors and ransacked a duffle bag stuffed with clothes. He had a job early that morning. His sharp-tongued boss called him thirty minutes before his alarm was set to ring and asked him to get into his office earlier. He dressed as professionally as possible: ripped skinny jeans, dress shirt, suspenders, and a leather-studded jacket. He tugged on a pair of boots seated by the door before taking his keys and helmet from a counter and slammed the door shut after locking it from the inside.

He pivoted towards the staircase at the end of the modestly sturdy building and took it two steps at a time, ignoring the greeting of a housewife returning from gathering her mail. Conversation was something he left on reserve for special occasions and he seldom had the opportunity. His job required little of his biting tongue as he had been hired off the street by Inari when he swung a bat straight into a delinquent's face after he came at him with a knife. It wasn't his problem he attracted the wrong crowd, or that the right sort of individuals seemed to find something ineffably incorrect about him, because he had been to a thousand therapy sessions and was rumored to be a psychopath. He had no redeeming qualities, none that he ever took notice of anyway.

He moved toward the parking lot where he pushed up a black Kawasaki road bike with his knee and swung his leg over the seat. He pushed his unruly dark locks behind his ears before pulling on his helmet and inserted the key in the ignition. He made sure his jacket pockets were closed to keep his mobile phone and money safe before turning the key and twisting the throttle to hear the sweet sound of the engine roaring to life. He kicked up his feet and let go of the breaks, strumming free of the insipid parking lot and rushed straight to Inari's office in the next town over.

He worked outside Karakura Town. It was a healthier choice given his violent, crime, delinquent littered past. He had plenty of jobs with the town, most of which ended in disastrous situations because he had _debts _to pay with various street gang members and the occasional yakuza. He meddled with everyone, no problem; in fact, he beat a couple dimwits trying to get even with him after rupturing their agreement. He had temporarily signed a contract with a member of one of the largest streets gangs in the border of the neighboring town and implemented a set of rules that needed following before their axiomatic leader could order him around, but agreements weren't honored. He hated that more than anything. The group crossed him and he paid them tenfold, ever since, they had been hunting him…trying to hurt him bad, but they were the ones that had it worse.

He had a reputation, a bad one, the sort that people heard of and fled with horrified expressions. He was no saint. He was death itself—no pity, no restrictions, no nothing. He was fearless. Hearing his name scared people shitless and it amused him. He enjoyed watching idiots parade themselves and even more as they perished, whether it was an automotive accident, a gang-related death, drugs, or anything that went against the cycle of life. He had never killed anyone, no, but he watched too many people die before his eyes…starting with his parents homicide.

For a while, he had been the prime suspect, but the case went cold. He watched them die, had an alibi to put him as far from the crime scene as possible, but the final minutes were crucial. The yellow walls of the kitchen were dripping red, the floor was practically submerged, and his parent's bodies hung from the ceiling lights, intestines tightly wrapped around their torn necks. There was no weapon, nothing but the stench of death lingered present. He stared at the flickering lights and their expressionless faces, eyes gauged out and placed on a silver platter. The murder was documented for a stretch of five years in which he was often pursued by cops and surreptitiously managed a double life outside the façade he created to unwind his anger elsewhere. He needed various therapeutic sessions before being allowed on his own, and an orphanage where everyone treated him like a convict. He continued school until he dropped out, thinking it unnecessary to return to that sort of environment. Nobody would stop looking at him with hatred and disgust. In everyone's head, he had mercilessly murdered his own flesh and blood, though they were stereotypically lovely and kindhearted (but judgmental and inexperienced) he never hoped for their deaths.

The old man told him the same thing.

He kept meeting him whenever he drove around Karakura Town to bask in its freedom, to stare at undeserving people walking through the streets without a care in the world and categorizing them. Everyone belong somewhere except him, it seemed.

Taishi ran three red lights after checking his watch to dully note his tardiness and arrived twenty minutes late to Inari's office in a local strip mall. He pulled his helmet off after entering and was greeted by a sharp-looking male in his late thirties dressed in a flashy pinstriped suit. Inari's face wrinkled at the sight of him, checking the clock on the wall and back.

"You're late."

"I'm here now," he answered coldly. "What's the job and how much is it worth?"

"It's a pretty penny, Nagata-san; you only need to ensure the repossession of a car, house, and whatever else you find listed in this," Inari stated, drawing papers from his desk and putting on a refreshing air of professionalism. "The man in question had a flourishing company that recently went bankrupt and it is said he has ties with the yakuza that are willing to serve him in case any company attempts to take back what he owes. If you are forced to act, I'll pay you double for every item. We'll be getting paid a hefty amount by the creditors so any substantial amount is possible. No problem right?"

Taishi took the papers from his boss and scanned the block of text before finding the large list of items. His eyebrow twitched. "A cat?"

"It is a lovely breed, Nagata-san," started Inari with an amused smirk. "You wouldn't understand."

It was extra.

"The repo agent is already waiting at the site, drive up there and get it over with. You may have the rest of the day off, if nothing comes up…actually."

Inari started swishing back and forth on his desk chair before doing a complete spin.

Taishi went straight to the door with his hand on the knob when Inari slapped his hand over his desk. "It looks like rain, Nagata-san; I hope you brought an umbrella."

He slammed the door shut and went off to start another miserable day among the ignorant.

* * *

Once the workday ended, Taishi took a ride around Karakura Town before even deciding to head home, he figured that by then his neighbors would be fed up by his blaring stereo and alarm. There was also a slimming chance they put on their bravest face to stomp downstairs to complain to the landlord, they seemed like the annoying sort so it wouldn't be as surprising were it to be true. He drove around the same streets whenever he wanted to waste time, he never changed direction—the thought did not occur to him because he liked the breeze of every venue. He rode through the mountains in the outskirts where the rich folk frolicked and on occasion shot a curious glance at the gargantuan homes aligning the streets and their splendid western designs and their many servants on display. He liked western-styled homes because he watched too many English dramas in Inari's office while waiting on the repo agents and though the language sounded like incoherent babble to him, he watched without issue. He seemed to like the modern furnishings and dated interior, which is why he somewhat enjoyed taking on that morning's job.

The bankrupted male owned a house in a rural town a few miles from Karakura Town and it was grandeur, spacious, and western. After he took care of his pesky bodyguards, incidentally breaking the classy sliding doors that led to the patio, and kicked the belligerent male from his home once it was repossessed and no further actions were requested from his creditors, Taishi took it upon himself to give himself the grand tour. He even took the opportunity to nap in the master bedroom while the repo agent agreed to make dinner as she prepared paperwork. They had another job after that, but it wasn't until three hours from then.

He returned home to leave his motorcycle, stomped to his apartment to the quarrelling neighbors winding their way back into their complex before a lanky man shot him a mocking look as he followed his petite girlfriend back into their room. But the seemingly ordinary man halted upon recognizing Taishi as his neighbor.

Taishi ripped the note taped on his door and tossed the crumbled paper over his shoulder as he entered his noisy apartment.

"Hey."

He tossed his keys onto the nearest table and whirled around to exit, coming face to face with the lanky stranger. He lowered his gaze while stuffing his hands into his leather jacket and stepped past him, shutting the door raucously.

"I said _HEY_!"

His neighbor dropped his hand hard on his shoulder and Taishi instinctively turned, hand balled into a tight fist that smashed into the unsuspecting male's face. The crunch of bones snapped over his knuckles and sounded loudly as the lanky man fell backward, a string of blood splattered along the walkway. Gasps resounded and a seemingly concerned girlfriend appeared with a startling cry as she saw her lover holding a broken nose with wayward tears embedded in his slinky gaze. Taishi went on unconcerned.

Spectators stared and whispered tiny little regrets beneath their breaths. He heard them. His hearing was incredible by normal standards, more now than before. Everything around him was constantly changing. He didn't care what gossip was exchanged, especially if it concerned him. He wanted to take a peaceful afternoon walk around Karakura Town and brace himself for eviction upon his return.

His legs took him to various places until the smell of precipitation reached his nose, alerting him of oncoming rainfall. He stared upward as thunder grumbled ominously and raindrops started falling like pins and needles. He tilted his head to the side, gaze following suit to the blurred image of a young girl rushing into the nearest café. He followed her proceedings unconsciously and watched as she took a window seat inside the tiny shop.

He knew that girl.

Light hair settled around her sickly pale face, soft blue eyes observed her surrounding with incandescent glee and she jolted slightly when a waitress approached her table with her tiny writing pad.

Where did he meet her?

His eyes widened after suddenly feeling a sharp pain. He doubled over as the throbbing headache increased in severity.

"Motherfucker!" he groaned as he lifted half-open eyes to the window. He saw fading numbers above the girl's head as his glassy eyes turned a glimmering gold without him taking notice.

A hand dropped over the top of his craned head and fingers pressed down hard. As they retracted, the pain vanished as quickly as it came.

"You are showing signs, Nagata Taishi."

He whirled around, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed to glare at the old man standing beside him. He encountered the odd man about ten times in his entire lifetime and each time, the elder spouted nonsense he did not understand. He was odd looking as well, bone-colored hair that seemed more natural than the effects of aging and a pair of deep-set eyes of a bright golden hue. He was stretched out and thin with light wrinkles brushed over his face and a calm countenance.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

He never knew his name. The older male never bothered to mention it because he claimed it was unimportant.

"One day you will awaken to excruciating pain and it will be your telltale sign to run in the other direction," started the old man. "Do not commit stupid mistakes, Nagata Taishi."

He shot him a disbelieving stare. "Who the fuck are you?"

The man regarded him skeptically. "Would you not prefer to regard me as a manifestation of your careless youth—an entity that guides and advices you?"

Taishi stopped listening after _regard_, his gaze fixed on the girl again. Familiarity strung him like an out of tune instrument and filled him with a series of strange emotions.

"To answer your inquiry, you do know that girl. Have you forgotten our meeting four years ago? You nearly died that evening."

"Go away will you." He waved his hand dismissively when changing direction. "Damned old man."

Taishi went on wandering through the shopping district until there was a curtain of rain separating him from instinctual stalker tendencies against a stupid brat crouched in the sidewalk holding her bag over her head. He intended to return home, save himself the trouble of catching a cold for the sake of a stranger, but the words the old man said pestered him and reverberated in his mind like an endless song.

He stood in place like a shadow, unmoving, uncaring for the precarious weather. His dark hair was glued to his face and eyes fixed on a childish looking girl. He never met her before. But he could not account for his claim. He had a horrible memory when it came to faces.

Someone approached the girl, a kid with orange hair…her age, probably older.

The need to stay diminished and he quickly strode away from the scene.

* * *

_"**If you die this time around, die old and resolved. Do not meet her directly. Watch her from beyond. Because if you die, it will not happen once and she cannot remedy the loss. She will perish and with it the Cycle itself.**"_

His muscles constricted agonizingly in the eve of dawn, a cold sweat spread over his body, and a pulsing ache sent waves of excruciating pain through the rest of his body. He screamed at the top of his lungs, until his throat went painfully raw and dry. His eardrums threatened to explode as blood flowed from his nose and widened eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. It was like ramming straight into a moving truck, getting crushed by the nose and rolling underneath it until a mangled body remained. His bones popped with a jerking movement until the darkened room was filled with the disturbing sounds.

Describing it as pain would be an understatement. It hurt like a bitch—a thousand times worse.

Taishi took deep gapping breaths as he held a cup underneath the tap and took a deep gulp of water without waiting for the glass to fill. Tossing it aside, the glass rolled off the counter and smashed on ground. He splashed water over his face, droplets running from his chin and dampening his bloodstained shirt.

A knock sounded. His ears were bleeding.

He wiped the blood on his shirt as he jerked open the front door.

"What?" he growled.

The landlord's wife stood with eyes as wide as saucers. "Nagata-san…did something happen?"

"No," he barked, feeling his nose starting to drip. "Shit."

She took a cautious step back, heart thumping so loud he swore he heard it pounding away in his ears.

"You should see a doctor, you really don't look well."

His eyes stung beneath the early sunlight and he lowered his head in mock apology. "Forgive the ruckus, excuse me."

"Yes, of course." She started her way back downstairs when he slammed the door shut, but it did not stay closed for long.

Taishi took a jacket from a chair, stuffed his keys into his pockets, tugged on the easiest pair of shoes, and rushed out of his apartment.

He forgot to lock it.

He remembered shortly after mounting his motorcycle and revving the engine loudly. He thought of returning, but figured it was pointless.

He needed air.

He might suffocate otherwise. His windpipes shrunk and his throat stung. He accelerated onto the street in front of complex and sped off. The wind soothed the lingering ache, numbness prickled over his skin, and his eyes turned bleary underneath the rising sun.

Taishi realized he had forgotten his cell phone and wallet upon entering Inari's office to work that same morning. He forgot many things and started seeing things that weren't actually there. He saw people, he saw fading numbers, milliseconds ticking in light speed until they blurred into his vision. He started hearing that old man's grating voice in his head and dealt with him appearing out of thin air wherever he went—to or from a job, to and from home—until reality begun driving him mad.

"What the fuck do you want?" he shouted hoarsely.

People walking through the streets stared at him oddly as if he were talking to the lamppost.

The older man pulled his bowler hat from his neatly combed hair and gave a curt bow. "This will be our final meeting in your human shell if you so choose to be it."

"Be what, you deranged fucker?"

Gold eyes struck him cold as set lips curved into a malevolent smirk. "Death."

He balled his hand into a fist as frustration took the reins.

"Fuck you!" he cried, swinging straight at the man before he vanished.

"I am a transient being; you cannot harm me, _human_."

He threw another jab. His opponent vanished. He continued making a spectacle of himself until he heard the sound of sirens fast approaching and then he jumped back onto his bike to speed through a traffic jam. He could still hear the man speaking in his head.

He was going insane.

It seemed more likely that way. For others to perceive his actions as insanity and later justify his premeditated death, it made it easier for lowly humans to understand the domino effect of this precarious day. Secretly they wanted something to happen to the crazy barbarian spouting nonsense in the middle of a crowded street. One or two people muttered it loud enough for him to hear. Yet…

He never saw it coming.

A metal bat swung straight into his face and his bike slipped from under him, crushing into the ground and swirling until it hit the nearest lamppost making the bulb go out like a snap. His back hit the asphalt painfully as he bounced a few meters away from his smoke billowing motorcycle. The sound of scampering feet and cackling voices reached his ears. The crack of his face hurt most, something or everything was broken, and the rest came like swift justice to the familiar faces taking turns beating him to a bloody pulp with bats, rusted pipes, and steel-toed boots. He felt the throbbing pain escalate until his body went cold. His eyes wavered to stay focused as maniacal smirks filled his vision, inappropriate slurs reached his ears, and once it was over. He took note of memorizing their faces.

_I'll fucking kill you bastards._

Their twisted cackling filled the empty streets, though they faded quickly.

"Hey, girlie, why don't you call an ambulance, eh?"

"Yeah, there's a corpse lying in the middle of the road."

"Why can't you do it?" a girl questioned.

"So they can blame us? Hell no!"

"Motorcycle accidents are a bitch!"

"Hehe, see ya girlie."

Rushing steps halted at his side. He peeled his weary eyes open, struggling to remain conscious. He spit the accumulating blood, traces of it slapping across pale cheeks as the girl leaned forward into his field of vision.

It was the same girl. Again.

_Damnit._

He watched her eyes flood with tears as she started mouthing off nonsense.

"I j-just called the ambulance—I, they'll—"

She sobbed uncontrollably as she searched his pockets for an ID to find nothing. "What's your name?"

His lips parted. He could only guess he looked like an unsightly mess—teeth missing, nose broken, matted hair, a hollow in his cranium. "_F…fuck you._"

A wave of pain left him gasping for air and she tried keeping him on the ground as sirens blared in the distance.

"Don't move," she whispered, holding him down with the weight of her body once he started struggling. "Stop moving…you'll die."

_Why the fuck is this crazy bitch crying?_

Warm tears fell upon his face as she lifted her head, face glowing red from the ambulance's light, and he realized he lost track of time. Voices started overlapping, making it difficult to tell one from the other, and the weight of her frame upon his bloodied torso retracted as an unfamiliar male tugged her back by the arm. His eyes glazed as he watched her blurred profile leave his field of vision. Her tears felt like acid searing into his skin, making it bubble and rot until he finally begun losing consciousness.

Eyelids drooped, feeling abandoned him—he stopped needing to breathe and his heart stopped hammering in his chest.

The world crumbled atop him and fell into an abysmal darkness.

* * *

Wakatsuki Hiko hastily tugged on his necktie and leaned into a comfortable seat, glasses reflecting the changing graphs displayed on the large monitor upon his desk. His dark eyes narrowed as information zipped through his head and photographs began popping up in new windows. Pictures of seemingly normal individuals in common settings filled the scene until the last one displayed a pair of light haired twins standing in the foyer of a gargantuan mansion, holding each other's stubby hands and smiling toothily.

Haruka and Arashi. They looked harmless and happier.

Neither of them would believe him if he said he knew everything there was to know about them because he spent most of his time as far from his home in a tiny hotel room littered with several pieces of technology meant to observe them. He ate indoors and only went out to gather information or meet with Kurosaki. Sometimes he received the unexpected visit from the owner of Urahara Shoten and they would exchange knowledge for the completion of a series of odd jobs he was asked to do.

Something was amiss.

Hiko leaned back and relaxed his tense muscles when his phone dragged him from conflicting thoughts. He reached for the sleek device sitting atop his desk and pulled it open upon recognizing his house number.

"Ueda-san?" he answered, dreading the worst.

"No."

His features softened and he slumped back into his seat, breathing easy. "Haruka, is everything all right?"

"This isn't her."

Hiko almost dropped the phone upon recognizing the weak chime to the girl's voice and bolted out of his seat, chair clattering onto the ground.

"Nagisa!"

His teeth clenched as he shuffled around the room to collect his things and prepared to make a swift return home while simultaneously fishing out a second phone from his jacket pocket. He started searching through the directory when the girl sniffled.

"You have broken your promise, _Wakatsuki-san_."

He dialed his second phone and held it a few centimeters from his other ear as a man answered, "_Yes, Wakatsuki-san_?"

"What promise?"

"**…Death will reawaken into this world.**"

The line went dead.

"_Wakatsuki-san?_"

He shut his first phone. "Urahara-san," he started as he made a swift exit. "Take Haruka into your custody. I'll contact Kurosaki and Ishida to check the recently deceased records around Karakura and beyond."

"Who was it?" the shopkeeper's tone darkened.

"We have thirteen hours."

There was a lengthy silence between Urahara's final responses that confirmed the severity of their situation. A female voice called out to the shopkeeper, concerned about the phone call.

"Yoruichi-san will retrieve Haruka-san immediately."

Hiko shut his second phone and stuffed them into his pocket. He pulled a round candy from within and popped it into his mouth.

A flash of light lit the dead of night.

Everyone would be on high alert until the thirteen hours concluded without complications.


	5. The Thirteenth Hour

**Chapter Four, **"The Thirteenth Hour"

* * *

Haruka reentered her studio up the attic staircase with her head in her hands and a blotchy vision, a veil of perspiration covering her skin. She lifted her gaze to Ichigo's back and as her heartbeat sped, she took a swift, noisy step backward to grab his attention, as she seemed to have gotten by without a sound.

Ichigo backed away from the newly finished portrait she had diligently been working on for the past week since summer vacation neared its conclusion. He ran a hand over his head and inched closer to the entrance, having a closer look at her after receiving a frantic call from Ueda on his day off. He was forced to take the last bus to the mountainside home in the middle of dinner, worrying Yuzu and Karin who were left without a reason for his hasty exit. But had unconsciously worried about Haruka's wellbeing though she seemed in perfect shape—as far a health was concerned—save the glossiness of her pale complexion. Regardless, the day had started with scorching heat and many of his inquiries quickly found responses.

"You look all right, did you get hurt?" he asked, anyway.

She blinked until her clouded eyes cleared and shook her head.

He frowned. "You sure?"

She rubbed her eyes to keep her sight from turning fuzzy and nodded. She had a minor headache that went unmentioned, but had practically felt immortal throughout the day. The air conditioner had been blaring forcing her to walk around the house in a thick sweater and her medicine was taken at the exact hours. She took a nap or two during the afternoon, first on the couch in the living room while Arashi stole the controller from the gruesome zombie game she had been playing and the second happened in her bedroom while the news anchors on television informed citizens of gang violence and other subjects that failed to pertain to her interests.

"Why are you here?"

"Ueda-san called and asked me to check on you because she had a family emergency…and your brother isn't home, again." He had previously searched the house, too, before inviting himself upstairs and into her eclectic studio. "Where's Fujimoto-san anyways?"

"He went to Kagoshima to spend his vacation," she answered, slipping past the taller male carefully. "He wanted to stay, though. Put up a fight too."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he muttered beneath his breath, turning his head to the side.

Fujimoto was obsessed with perfection, but most importantly, work. He made it clear on various occasions how lovely it was to serve the Wakatsuki family and that he considers it his second home, though he never bothered to elaborate on what his first home was like.

Ichigo had been around the Wakatsuki family for two weeks and while he spent most of his hours babysitting Haruka, he had a chance to understand the inner workings of the mansion. Ueda taught him secret passages and had on various occasions forced him into helping her cook dinner while explaining Haruka's strict diet—she was an extremely picky eater and disliked eating most meats, which accounted for the nutrients prescribed to her. Fujimoto showed him the greenhouse outdoors, which he called his sanctuary and introduced him to some of his potted friends. He learned Wakatsuki Hiko was a producer for a major record label and for that he spent most of his time out of Karakura Town and that his wife died in an unfortunate accident when the twins were young. He only met Haruka's identical twin once during his time there. Arashi greeted him with a bright smile and a friendly countenance that made him the slightest bit uncomfortable. He noted that the twins weren't precisely identical and figured it might have been due to Haruka's illness. Arashi spent most of his time outside the house. Nobody questioned him and when he curiously asked Haruka about it, she answered after a long silence.

_"Arashi moves to the beat of his own drum."_

Arashi was also the youngest.

_"He gets everything, too."_

_"What about you?" he asked, leaning over his English homework as the girl continued drawing an abundance of flowers in her sketchbook beside him._

_"I don't want everything."_

Haruka pulled her sketchbook onto her lap after plopping atop the retro couch decorating her studio. She shot a fleeting glance towards her unexpected guest as his face suddenly tensed. She dropped her gaze to a blank page and rustled through a pouch beside her for a pencil.

"Wakatsuki?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you home alone?"

She shot him an odd stare, seeing as he was inside her home made his inquiry a tad impartial.

Ichigo took the hint and slid into a seat beside her, though he knew the right thing would be leaving considering the time, except he didn't want to. He had nothing to do at home and he did have something to eat before arriving so he wouldn't be hungry. He heard all about Haruka returning home with blood on her clothes and bloodshot eyes.

The soft scratch of her pencil filled the room along with the strong smell of tangerines. He glanced over her shoulder to see long jagged lines and lifted brown orbs to her concentrated expression.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head and tucked her legs underneath her body, sinking further into the couch as memories of his bloody, battered body filled her mind. She hated the feeling tugging at her chest like a bell tolling to warn villagers of oncoming dangers. She wasn't sure he noticed his bones were broken or that he had a deep gaping wound over his face that showed her a sight she would never forget. She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes, threatening to fall atop her messy paper, and Ichigo noticed the strain of her tiny hands wrinkling her pants. If she could disappear, she would do it—anything to keep from drowning in the emotion.

Ichigo chased the thought away and kept quiet. If she wanted to talk, she would do it…even if she it was normal for her to say nothing at all. He was never sure how to act around a girl like her because he was used to more talkative and assertive people. Orihime always had something interesting to say though she was soft-spoken most times. Uryu seemed like the quiet type, but if he needed something said…he took care of it, no problem. Then there was Chad. He only talked when he wanted but Ichigo never felt awkward around him. And…Rukia had a tendency of being right in one's face without a cinch of fear.

The awkwardness might have been because she was a girl.

He shot her a sideway glance and as he took a minute to have a closer look the doorbell reverberated through the entire mansion.

Haruka jolted and shuffled out of her seat.

"I'll get it," she announced, scrambling towards the stairway leading up to the attic.

"Wait—" Ichigo sprung after her.

If there wasn't anyone in the house it may be dangerous for her to answer the door so late at night. He caught up to her and forced her to a halt in the corridor leading to the doorway. "Stay here."

His hands left her tiny shoulders, her eyes stared directly at him and they were fathomless.

The doorbell rang again. Louder. Noisily. Annoyingly.

"Coming already," he stated as he unlocked and pulled the door opened. His eyes widened instantaneously upon recognizing the person behind the door. "Yoruichi-san?"

Curiously, Haruka pushed her petite form against Ichigo, tiptoeing to steal a glance over his shoulder. A dark-skinned woman with cat-like eyes and an equally surprised expression stood wearing a set of odd clothing. "Hello?"

Ichigo fought the sudden unnecessary urge to blush and felt the heat rising from his neck upward. The girl stood perfectly against him, hands clasped over his shoulders and the brush of her lips against his shirt. But his astonishment drew him back toward their unexpected guest.

Yoruichi directed her attention to the girl upon making an appearance behind him. "Wakatsuki Haruka?"

"Yes."

"Call your father and say 'Shihōin Yoruichi is here.'"

She looked to Ichigo for reassurance.

He nodded firmly. "Go do it, Wakatsuki."

She moved away from him and rushed to the nearest telephone to make the call. Her soft steps quickly faded into the adjacent room.

Yoruichi smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Ichigo was confused. "What do you want with her?"

She shook her head. "That's confidential, Ichigo."

His eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

Was it because he didn't have his shinigami powers that she would say that? Whether that had been the reason or not, Ichigo bristled knowing he would be left in the dark about everything occurring in Karakura Town. He didn't have powers or the ability to see ghosts and he was content with the idea. He thought it was about time he lived normally, but he had to admit spending so much time with Haruka confirmed things would not proceed as smoothly. Something was amiss. Haruka knew it herself.

"Wakatsuki is my responsibility," he stated suddenly, surprising Yoruichi. "If something happens to her, I would be at fault."

"This isn't something you can get involved in, Ichigo," she said tersely. "You're human. And she—"

His curiosity was piqued instantly. "What?"

He failed to hear Haruka's returning steps as he followed Yoruichi's still gaze to the young girl pulling on a bright red hoodie. Judging by her reaction, she didn't overhear the conversation.

"Dad said to go with Shihōin-san," she said, regarding Ichigo before looking straight at the stranger. "But I want him to come, too. Dad said it'd be fine."

Yoruichi seemed pressed for time as she hastily agreed with the girl's wishes and let Haruka walk on ahead of them as she moved closer to Ichigo. "It would be better if you didn't ask questions, got it?"

"Whatever," he said, stepping on ahead to catch up to Haruka. He looked down at her. "You should have dressed warmer. It gets colder at night."

Haruka frowned childishly, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

Yoruichi led the way, but Ichigo already knew where they were headed. He was only surprised that he was being reeled back into whatever mess was about to start. He had a strange feeling from the start. It worsened upon realizing Urahara and Yoruichi were involved.

* * *

Arashi burst through the door of an abandoned hospital structure, knocking the door off its hinges and causing a ruckus as the thick stench of blood filled his nose. He clasped a hand over his face, cringing as a transparent cubed structure caught his sight. It emanated a surge of unforeseen power and filled the room with white light, casting dark silhouettes along the decadent surroundings. There was a person to each side of the structure, hands clasped together and eyes closed in deep concentration that even his entrance failed to ruin. He moved further in, huffing at the sight of the bloodied corpse, and quickly found the lanky blond that dared disturbed an amazing date set to have a happy ending.

He glared at the pigtailed girl busily working her cell phone, sending texts and taking pictures of the scene, dressed in lavish Gothic Lolita fashion.

"Oi, Miho-chan, what's the deal?" he complained noisily. "And what's with the barrier? It's too early to be wasting energy over one person."

Miho finished sending her text and pushed her cell phone back into a matching purse. "Sugahara found him."

"Sugahara?" He shot a disturbed stare at the childish-looking girl sitting cross-legged before one end. "Did she really dye her hair pink? Jeez, they're gonna kill you at school, dimwit."

Sugahara's concentration failed to falter, even though any insult against her usually threw her into a fit. His eyes narrowed as the desired reaction slipped him by due to the inexcusable attention given to a dead carcass. The stench of death was nearly unbearable. He was forced to keep his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to lessen the musky scent. It mostly smelled of blood, but even so, it disgusted him to be in isolation with a bunch of creeps and a body in the middle of nowhere, no less.

"We had it done this evening," muttered Miho. "Pink suits her."

"Whatever," he scoffed. "So, who's the dead guy?" He offered the body another once over to see whether he could figure it out by gauging the level of his awakening, but came up blank. _I must be getting rusty. _"Did Kouyou finally kick the bucket?"

"Kouyou suggested this place."

Arashi's interest was piqued as he approached the barrier to have a closer look at the intense painfully disfigured man. "Was he on the list?" He cringed and turned toward Miho once more. "It is a he, right?"

Miho's cell phone rang once more, stopping her from answering his vastly important question. She fished her phone out and giggled at whatever it was she finished reading before remembering him.

"Did you say something, Arashi?"

"Was he on the list or not?" he repeated through clenched teeth.

"No. He's a special case."

"Special?"

"He's the one you wanted," answered Miho indifferently.

Arashi pressed his hands against the barrier, peering in until his nose squished against it. His lips drew into a joyous smile and parted as a fit of laughter escaped him. He was like a child in a candy store, turning to Miho with wide eyes. "Is it really him?"

"Kouyou said it himself," she answered laxly, staring at the screen of her phone. "He set the barrier too; otherwise his power may fluctuate out of control. He said it could destroy the entire city and any neighboring towns."

He continued laughing, eyes twisted as thoughts of destruction filled his mind. How perfect life was. Even with opposing factors, his precious Death managed to crawl from underground and join them once more and he would do anything to keep pesky outsiders from killing him again. His awakening meant many things. He could count them down in his fingertips but the most important detail lingered in his mind. He savored it.

Killing his sister was his first priority, succeeded by a series of steps that would either upset the higher ups or make them burst with emotion. He hoped for the latter. He wanted them to writhe. Haruka would die soon. Death could make it happen in the blink of an eye. Nobody could save her.

"I can't wait."

* * *

Hiko halted breathlessly and checked the blinking digital numbers on his cell phone before whirling around to the semi-crowded street, eyes blurring his surroundings. There were few hours remaining. By morning it would be too late and they would have the devil incarnate to worry over. He received a call from Urahara confirming Haruka's safety and asked that he relay a message to Isshin, whose son was asked to tag along. Isshin nearly growled in response and uttered an insult towards his stubborn son before getting to work on a list of recently deceased. Ryuken already gave a lengthy report on deaths within Karakura Town and hung up deciding to stay away from the heap of problems pushed upon his shoulders. He refused to partake in the firework display or work with the detestable shinigami who brought too many problems. But there were also many discrepancies that evening.

Various ambulances were sent and from them there were five missing. He set out to investigate the matter further by appearing at the scene in which every ambulance was sent. He had only just arrived to the first area, a lonesome neighborhood with a series of nosey neighbors. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

The second area was an equally normal setting—a distress call.

He appeared at the third scene where there was a motorcycle wreck in the middle of the street. People gathered to gossip about it and most pointed out the outrageous amount of blood splattered along the pavement and asphalt. It was truly a gruesome scene and what energy remained there aroused his suspicions.

_He died here._

If he followed the faint trail, there was a chance he could impede the monster's awakening.

* * *

Haruka fell asleep shortly after Urahara had Ururu provide the famished girl with food. With Ueda's absence and her considerable lack of kitchen skills, she had been left to raid the refrigerator to find it bleak in the snack department and the nearest convenience store was too far to go on foot. Urahara had a room prepared and an extra futon in which she was laid after falling asleep on the dinner table during an incredibly boring game of Old Maid with Yoruichi. She didn't know how to play and Ichigo offered to teach her, but she knocked out faster than expected.

Ichigo kept her company, putting a premature end to the childish entertainment Yoruichi provided as Urahara continued dismissing his inquiries. Whatever was going on had him irritated in a seemingly helpless environment. He felt everyone understood but him. Somehow, everyone was aware something big was on the brink of happening. It might as well be the end of the world and he'd die ignorant. It'd be a pitiful way to die. The thoughts made him angry. If he had his shinigami powers, he would be at the center of whatever had everyone running around. He would know the reason why Haruka was being hidden in Urahara Shoten. But then…he remembered something she told him a couple days ago.

_"Have you ever heard the adults secreting? They lower their voices but I can always hear them. They're scared of letting me die."_

But his memory went spiraling further.

_"She's not like us."_

Not like them. Afraid of letting her die. Everyone on high alert.

His eyes settled on the sleeping girl. "What the hell are you, Wakatsuki?"

Did she know?

Haruka roused from sleep, shuffling underneath the heavy blanket as golden brown tresses slid across her cheeks and pale eyes opened to slits. She pressed her fingers against her lips and raised her head to see him sitting at her side.

"Kurosaki?"

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

He had to check his phone to give her an answer. "Two in the morning."

She yawned widely. "It's late. You should go home."

He thought about it countless times. He figured if it was Urahara and Yoruichi, her safety was ensured, but for whatever reason. He couldn't bring himself to take a step out the door. He continued making excuses—she was his responsibility, she'll be scared, she'll be lost, or she won't talk. He refused to get in trouble if something happened.

Inwardly, he wanted a reason to stay in the center of the events. He wanted to get involved though it was impossible for him.

Ichigo shook his head. "It's fine."

"I have to stay here until tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded slowly. "Yep."

He slipped back into deep contemplation. It was best to return home and wait for everything to end, shake off the curiosity and continue with normalcy, but his was practically rooted to the ground refusing to budge.

"You're right," he decided, forcing himself back to stand when her hand shot up to grab him by the shirt. He stayed on his knees.

Her face flushed and gaze lowered. Her lips parted, trembled, and closed once more. He felt her hand trembling as her fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt and watched as she sunk further and further underneath the coverlet.

She was terrified.

Ichigo settled back into his seat and watched as she retracted her arm underneath the blanket. By then her ears had turned a bright red. She wanted him to stay; if that was the case, he didn't need any more excuses. If he needed to explain, he was only following orders even if it was his first day off since the job begun.

"I'll tell Urahara-san and Shihōin-san—"

"I told you its Yoruichi," called the woman as she stepped inside the room.

Haruka jolted. "Sorry."

"And Ichigo's allowed to stay if he wants."

She stayed hidden underneath the blanket as she uttered an incoherent _thank you_.

Yoruichi gestured for Ichigo to follow her out and he excused himself from her presence to meet the woman outside. He slid the door shut behind him and walked a few steps away from it to a smirking Yoruichi. He grieved the second he followed her direction.

"Cute girl, aint she?"

He averted his gaze. "I haven't noticed."

Yoruichi barked out a laugh as she patted his shoulder before heading down the other end of the hall. "Come on, I'll give you a futon to use," she said, turning back to him with a sly smile. "First time sleeping next to a girl?"

"As if it's a big deal," he scoffed, staying impartial to the exchange as the older woman meant to tease him.

Little by little with every push of a button, he started falling for it. He had an outburst and asked her to shut up.

By the time he returned to the extra room to join Haruka and spread the futon near hers, he felt self-conscious. He moved the futon various times feeling she may not like him sleeping so close and maybe it was a stupid idea to sleep next to her in the first place. Either way, he wasn't sure he would be able to sleep with her beside him.

Eventually, he settled atop the futon with his hands behind his head. He tried not looking in Haruka's direction the entire time, knowing his face would flush. Whatever she did to him was witchcraft.

* * *

Haruka gulped down the lump in her throat as she stared directly at Kurosaki Ichigo's slumberous profile. She felt a need to jump into the nearest batch of quicksand and drown in it before her face grew any hotter. She had gotten too used to Ichigo in the past fourteen days that something like a sleepover seemed like child's play. She thought it might be a good experience as she only previously had them with Ueda (until Arashi invited himself) or maybe she was doing it all wrong. Friends had sleepovers, right? Ichigo was her friend, right? If he were, he would be one of her closest friends, excluding the worker in her home, as she spent so much time with him. She even showed him her record collection and challenged him to a vs. battle on a video game, though he won each time. She never did any of those things with anyone except Ueda, Fujimoto, Arashi, and occasionally Ozaki, the chauffer.

_Would it be stupid to ask if we are friends?_ She opened her mouth, but immediately clamped it shut. _It probably would_.

Ichigo looked at her curiously. "Aren't you sleepy?"

She could make change happen, then and there.

"No."

She was wide awake.

He fixed his eyes back to the ceiling as he settled onto a comfortable position. "Aren't you curious?"

"About?" she whispered.

The lights were already out save the stream of moonlight splitting their futons in the middle, though they weren't too close together.

"Everything."

It seemed he was unable to express the situation any other way than that.

She wondered too, but she wasn't concerned with the events because she knew their causes. Everything happened for a reason and she was at the crux for whatever seemingly impossible reason. She had yet to understand, but knew her life had something to do with it all. What a bothersome thing living was?

"No."

"Why?"

"I know they don't want me to die, yet."

"That again?"

She risked being considered stupid.

"Did Ueda-san tell you why?"

"What?"

"Why she wanted someone to keep me company?"

He stared her in the eyes and she quickly lowered her gaze, uncomfortable. He looked contemplative.

"There was an accident," he said. "You were there."

She nodded limply. "He was on a motorbike when some strangers swung a metal bat at him. There was blood everywhere, but he managed to lift himself up until they beat him…" she muttered to herself, almost inaudibly as if her voice was breaking, "I shouldn't have left the house like Ueda-san suggested, but—he was dying."

She earnestly described him in the same breath, dark hair with cold eyes—blue…like ice over water—and an angular face, she suspected lay beneath the disfigurement, but she was never certain. It pained her recounting the moment and it reminded her of the headache the experience caused that pained her until Kurosaki arrived to her home. She had forgotten it and the hurt of having witnessed a man's death. But it hurt more and it amazed her how distraught she had been…almost like she knew him from before.

"I want to leave," she uttered painfully.

"Yoruichi-san won't let you leave," he said. "You heard her."

"But I don't like it here," she whispered, hiding behind the covers while shutting her eyes tightly. "I want to go back home to see Ueda-san."

Ichigo sighed, defeated, after a lengthy silence. "You think we can get out undetected?"

"Somehow."

A flash underneath her blanket caught her eye and she very carefully opened her cellphone to read the blinking message in her inbox.

**Arashi**:

'Haruka-nee, where are you? I came home a little late, sorry.

Come back. I can take care of you. Promise!'

* * *

"How many hours are left?"

Arashi stared at his cell phone's screen, grunting upon reading his twin's response. Apart from being inconsiderably useless, Haruka managed to bring an amused smile to his face.

Her actions and reactions were vastly entertaining. She had a way with words and an interesting take on their surroundings. While he viewed it as dull, a place in which you need to work at something to squeeze out some life and she brought out the beauty of everything on canvas. He worked to make his surroundings bearable. He joined a club at school and strove to be recognized by puny, insignificant fools and studied ten times as hard to score the highest in the tests. He gained popularity while his stupid sister picked up a couple bullies. They preyed on the weak and that was what she was.

A sickly, sheltered, previously homeschooled girl was nothing but weak.

But her resilience amazed him. Even with the worst type of SLE, a range of accidents and traps never managed to kill her. She resisted death even when the odds were against her. It was pure coincidence. That sort of thing never existed within the Cycle and then again, he only wanted to kill Haruka to see if something interesting occurred.

She would be a special case if that were to happened, but in history where twins were concerned, only one awakened. If the Cycle was involved no two children could bear the amount of power awarded to them without dying in the womb. He was cause to Haruka's weak health. She had taken much harm due to his ignorance.

Miho went on ignoring him, forcing him to repeat himself about a thousand times before she gave a bland, disinterested response. "Oh, him?" she drawled, lifting narrowed eyes to the set of individuals struggling to keep the barrier stable. "We just entered the Sixth Hour. It leaves a wide range of time for interferences. I doubt they will sit this one out. Death never lasts longer than six hours after awakening."

Arashi clasped his cell phone shut. "This is why I have prepared a trap for my dearest sister."

"Another trap?"

He was surprised her phone hadn't started its incessant jingling to interrupt their first serious conversation inside the crumbling building. He stepped aside as bouts of dust drizzled from a large gaping hole in the ceiling, bursts of unimaginable power seeped through the cracks of the shaky barrier. He started to notice the evident strain in everyone's expression and the battle raging inside their minds as they fought to control a city littered with destruction and tempests leaving long trails of decimation. But the struggle was unavoidable. In his opinion, the harsher the work the better the results and the road lighting up before was paved in gold.

"We leave traces of his power here, take various other elsewhere, and I will care for Death alongside Sugahara until he reawakens," he stated quickly. "I'll have him kill Haruka upon awakening."

Miho fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Your obsession with killing that girl is ill placed. She has neither appeared on the list of potentials nor displayed any sort of spiritual inclination. She is human, a pitiful excuse, but human nonetheless."

Arashi straightened out and stuffed his phone back into his jacket pocket as he strode toward the pink-haired girl. "We will move him upon entering the Seventh Hour. Sugahara." He placed a hand atop the petite girl's shoulder, startling her out of deep concentration as large chocolate brown eyes flashed towards him. He smiled pleasantly as if he could do no wrong. "I have a job for you."

"I—"

He quickly interjected, jabbing a ring of keys before her startled expression as beads of sweat rolled down her brow. "My home is empty at the moment. Take twenty-six minutes to rest and use the remaining four to set your most powerful barriers to surround the entire basement. I will bring Death during his weakest hour and seal him until the remainder of his ceremonial awakening."

She gulped down as weariness strained her childish features. "What about here?"

"I will maintain the barrier in your absence," he informed reassuringly. He shot a final warning look at Miho. "I take it you know what your duties will be."

Miho bowed her head, the ribbons in her hair sliding across her face. "Of course."

Sugahara scrambled to her feet after snatching the keys from his hand and vanished into the hallway. He took her position and watched as his three companions struggled to uphold the balance without a fourth. He merely pressed his open palms over the barrier's sleek surface and felt a burst of energy thrust into him. He had the wind knocked out of him during channeling and halfway through remedying their predicament, eyes tightly closed in deep concentration, a menacing force threatened to destroy him.

_Had Nagisa awakened first…she could remedy this plight without complication._

Kouyou remained unmentioned since that bastard refused to work with them centuries ago.

* * *

Truthfully, Ichigo had trouble sleeping the rest of the night, not that he initially planned to do so after realizing he would share the room with Haruka and that in itself thrust a hurdle of complications on him. He occasionally looked in her direction, but she had her face buried in the coverlet making it hard to confirm whether she managed a wink of sleep. He did notice she held her hands over her ears and he thought is odd that she could easily sleep like that.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of the newly risen sun upon his body, and blinked sleepily. He drifted in and out of slumber, fought against it for various winded minutes until the sound of shuffling feet startled him out of sleep. He rolled onto his side, pushing himself up with his arm and onto a seat as he found Haruka noisily climbing out of the window, eyes wide in terror as she noticed him.

"What're you doing?" he questioned suspiciously.

She could pass as innocent in any trial with that surprisingly guiltless look on her face. She finished stepping out completely, but instead of answering, she gestured him outdoors.

Even if she managed to get out the window and a few feet from the territory, he definitely doubted her ability to get past Urahara and Yoruichi combined, not to mention the kidō cast around the vicinity—something he presumed. But regardless of doubting her ability and/or urging her to remain indoors until afternoon, he followed her lead to accept whatever consequences were thrown their way for defying the sole, cardinal rule imposed on them. They were not allowed to leave until the set time because there were dangers outdoors that could weigh heavily on Haruka and their sole mission was to keep her from encountering them. Urahara saved most details to himself, the important sort that were only reiterated to Yoruichi in secrecy, and let them believe they were under their care because it was her father's will. Ichigo knew better. He came to the previous conclusion by running through a number of ideas as dark clouds continued rolling over the star-specked sky.

Ichigo leaned over the window frame and stared at her bare feet. "What're you going to do about that?"

Haruka scuttled away only to return with both their shoes and smiled sheepishly. "I went around to steal them." She sounded short of breath as she held onto her chest and looked incredibly weary, even while hiding the truth behind a well-acted smile. "Nobody saw me, but Urahara-san and Shihōin-san are up, but Tsukabishi-san went out to catch early bird specials at some nearby shop."

He sat on the windowsill after taking his sneakers from her and slipped them on while giving her a curious look. "How do you even know these things?" he asked, before shaking his head. "How do you even know anything for that matter? You stay at home all day painting."

She jerked on her boots with a great huff, falling backward onto a patch of grass and blossoming flowers.

Ichigo panicked at the sound of approaching footsteps and slapped a hand across her mouth to keep her from crying out in pain. It certainly sounded like she hit the ground hard. He instinctively pushed her down, turning his head toward the open window and the sound of a sliding door.

"Damnit—Kisuke!"

When Yoruichi's footsteps faded in a rush, Ichigo dragged Haruka back onto her feet and without thinking rushed toward the nearest fence. He helped her climb atop the ledge after noting her struggle and once he jumped onto the other side reached out to aid her in landing safely. Haruka grabbed him by the wrist in that instant and tugged hard enough to jerk him into a hastened sprint.

He caught up to her pace quickly and shot her a fleeting glance to see an expression he had not yet seen in the time he spent stowed away in the Wakatsuki home. She had brightened as if a halo of illumination consumed her and she basked in it. She didn't need to smile to express her excitement because her wide blue eyes glittered iridescently beneath bouts of sunshine.

"Where are we going?"

"My house," she answered breathlessly.

Shutting her eyes tightly she strained to keep up with his pace because she had never been allowed to run around. Experiencing the sudden adrenaline rush, she found the reason why quite easily.

Running was a workout she didn't necessarily find pleasing.

Eventually, Ichigo forced them to a halt upon noticing she held the sleeve of her sweater stopping the flow of blood from her nose.

Her breathing was erratic and her heart was pounding in her head. The blood stopped a few minutes after they had taken shelter under the shade of a large tree, earning peculiar looks from pedestrians taking a morning stroll. He pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head to shield her from the blaring sun and she stammered a thank you while putting a meter between them. She held her gaze to the pavement and twiddled her fingers as she struggled to regain her breath. He decidedly dragged Haruka into the nearest convenience store to get drinks and ran into Keigo along the way, who managed to still their rush.

His schoolmate had been browsing through the magazine display when the door chime drew his attention to Ichigo. Conveniently, the corner store had been located across the street from where the shaded tree stood. Haruka padded behind the orange-haired teen with her head down as she observed the wiggle of her feet after every step, amusing herself.

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder. "You hungry?"

Haruka parted her lips to speak when a voice behind her interrupted.

"Ichi—goooo!"

Ichigo reacted instinctively, elbowing whomever it was coming behind him and turning upon realizing Keigo had fallen on his arse with a loud complain, and then lifted his gaze to Haruka who proceeded to hide beside him. But Keigo noticed her straight away; no girl could escape him, and jumped straight on his feet while giving her a scrutinizing look.

"You can go pick out whatever you want, I'll deal with this one."

Haruka lethargically moved to where the bottled drinks were located and stared at the selection while Ichigo looked at Keigo with a glare. With good reason, too. His friend hadn't stopped looking at the girl since he noticed her presence and for whatever reason it made Ichigo think she was being judged. He hated that.

"Wakatsuki's supposed to be her identical twin, aint he?" inquired Keigo. "They actually don't look all alike, eh?"

"I wouldn't know," he replied crisply.

They were pressed for time.

Keigo's expression suddenly changed, a familiar smirk drew his lips as he placed his fingers underneath his chin. "So," he started, leaning extra close to his friend, "are you two like…on a date?"

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Ichigo resisted the urge to hit him when Haruka slipped past him with her arms full of drinks and snacks.

Keigo eagerly awaited a response, but he never got it. Ichigo patted his shoulder, stared at him straightly. "We have to go. I'll see you once school starts."

"Whaaa?"

Haruka paid for everything herself and they were in the clear within seconds. She shuffled through the bag picking out a bottle of water and handed the rest to Ichigo. He looked inside to see one of everything and stared back at her.

"What's all this?"

"You never told me your favorite drink."

His gaze dropped back to the inside of the bag. "I don't think I have a favorite."

"I like anything but chocolate-flavored drinks," she said lightly. "I never liked chocolate."

That was certainly a first in girl world, a girl that didn't like chocolate. He sighed exasperatedly, tired himself after running so long and yet, there were still many miles ahead of them to reach her home. He dreaded it.

A noisy jingle filled the silence between them and quickly Haruka fished out her cell phone. "It's my dad."

He shrugged in response, drinking a canned soda from the selection as they took the crosswalk onto a larger block filled with monochrome homes.

She answered regardless.

"Where am I?" she questioned, looking at the street signs and answering suit. "Well, I don't know. I'm in a big neighborhood, but don't worry, Kurosaki is here with me. If Wakamura appears out of thin air, he'll take care of her."

To his knowledge, Wakamura was her bully and even though the girl had done some nasty things to Haruka, she still held her in high regard while saying not everyone can pick on the weak for their own amusement without leaving with a guilty conscience. Haruka needed some backbone if she planned on getting out of high school unscathed, that or stay homeschooled.

"I'm going back home. It's almost time for my medicine," she replied stubbornly. "I couldn't sleep the entire night, too. Oh, are you in Karakura Town? Did something happen? A vacation? Where am I? Again, I told you already." Her eyebrows furrowed and Ichigo swore he could hear static coming from the other line. "I can't hear you. Oh—"

And just like that, he witnessed Haruka's first burst of anger as she slammed her phone to the pavement. It broke in half, screen cracked, a button or two spiraling out into a halt before them.

They halted simultaneously as the golden haired girl stared at her broken mobile with a morbid expression. She lifted her gaze suddenly, smiling with certain easiness. "My phone slipped."

_No, you definitely slammed it_.

"We should get going."

* * *

Urahara stood outside his shop, tipping his hat upward as Yoruichi emerged from within to lean against the doorframe. There was a hearty intensity setting between them and a foreboding that each dreaded.

"It's awfully peaceful out," commented Yoruichi staring at the nearly cloudless sky and the warming sun beating down overhead.

Leaves swayed and rustled, traffic sounded and the wind carried over the voices of their neighbors. All around them was an unsettling peace that suffocated her and a countdown whizzed in her mind warning her.

"Aaa," answered Urahara distractedly.

She caught a glimpse of a device in his hand and its blank screen, but strove to change the subject of their worries. "Ichigo looks well."

"Kurosaki-san shouldn't be involved," he said while lowering his gaze after the sun had burned into his irises. "Even if he miraculously acquired his powers and reached a level further than before, does not mean he can stand up against _them_."

Yoruichi's eyes narrowed. She bristled. Her stomach turned until she felt disgust spilling from her innards. Kisuke told her _everything_, no doubt, she had knowledge of whatever new discoveries he made, what gadgets he'd brought to life, and if there were enemies…she been the first to be briefed for any mission. Except, when _they_—whomever he referred to—were concerned, he, Wakatsuki, Kurosaki, and Ishida seemed to be the only ones aware. Though Ishida's duty stayed outside the bigger picture, his job was to keep Wakatsuki Haruka living—and it seemed to be the sole reason for his collaboration, apart from that he stayed as far from delving into the dangers secreted between the ex-shinigami. She knew one thing, regardless; Kisuke had been assigned to the job years before exile and after his contribution to the Winter War had been reinstated though not necessarily pardoned.

That had been the moment she first met Wakatsuki Hiko and seen a picture of his twins.

There were others in on the operation.

She worked clandestinely, without association or knowledge.

_"Knowing may very well be the death of you, Yoruichi-san."_

It might be appropriate to say Kisuke could never bring himself to say it.

"I doubt it'll be worse than Aizen," she said with a confident grin.

"Aizen's schemes weren't necessarily worthy of their involvement." Urahara's expression as he turned to face her was grim. "They are of a dangerous sort. It is why they require constant surveillance until they reach their weakest hour," he said seriously. "Yoruichi-san, will you be ready for the Thirteenth Hour?"

She hated the unknown most of all. "Count me in."

* * *

Ichigo took a deep haggard breath after stepping in front of the walkway leading up to the Wakatsuki home. His knees bent in exhaustion as Haruka clung to his neck for dear life; her legs were clamped tightly around his waist even after coming to a sudden halt. He carried her up the hillside streets leading to their destination and had been surprised neither Urahara nor Yoruichi made an appearance to force them back to the shop. Either way he was relieved that didn't happen.

She lifted her hooded head, glassy eyes meeting her gargantuan home. She curiously turned to his profile, watching his unsteady gaze level with her house and tiny beads of sweat roll down the side of his face.

"What time is it?"

Ichigo struggled to pull his phone from his pocket, but somehow managed while still keeping her on his back. "Nine."

"That was a long walk."

"Tell me about it," he huffed as he moved towards the entrance.

Haruka climbed off him atop the porch and pulled the hidden key from inside a pot of dirt. She held the knob, but as she attempted to insert the key, she realized there was no need. She pushed both heavy doors opened and a musky smell filled their nostrils as the ground shook slightly beneath their feet and a chandelier rang noisily overhead.

She proceeded indoors with a fleeting expectation of watching Ueda burst from the nearest room and rush into the hall to envelop her in a worrisome hug to welcome her home. She had been gone a spectacular amount of time without her knowledge and whenever an idea of that caliber occurred to her…the maid always made a ruckus when greeting her. She dropped her arms limply at her sides; a bitter feeling filled her just as Ichigo went on ahead of her.

"What's that smell?"

A droplet hit her face.

He turned to face her and took notice of a red blotch on her face. "Are you bleeding again?"

Another one slid across her nose leaving a wet trail. She lifted her face to the ceiling when another warm drop hit her face and her eyes widened in pure horror. She clasped both hands over her mouth to muffle the scream threatening to burst from deep inside her throat and resonate through the long corridors of her home. The image had permanently engraved itself to her memory, the sight of Ueda's mangled body hung from the ceiling covered in blood and a series of open wounds forced her eyes wide open and a fear that suffocated her. She stumbled backward until she hit the ground and Ichigo looked up.

His insides churned. "What the fuck is this?"

She wanted to scream as her breathing turned erratic and her heart threatened to stop. _Ueda-san._

Tears sprouted in her eyes and rolled down her face. _Ueda-san_.

Ichigo couldn't stand looking at the body and grabbed a hold of Haruka, pushing her outside the house when a set of footsteps caught his attention. He whirled toward the dark, dreary hallway as an unfamiliar male with messy dark hair covered in blood from head to toe emerged with a grin.

"Y-you—" she sputtered as tears dripped down her chin. All familiarity emerged from deep inside her—a feeling that flooded through her veins like a violent current—forcing to remember the brutally beaten body on the asphalt, covered in blood, choking in it. "Y-you're supposed to be dead. I-I saw you die…y-you…"

Ichigo's eyes widened at the sound of her confirmation and remembered snippets of what Haruka divulged yesterday evening. Dark hair that fell across his eyes now sat matted with blood and eyes as sharp as daggers the color of ice. There were tears in his clothes that proved her had fallen in a dangerous squabble that had ended his life prematurely.

"W-what the…?"

He vanished, leaving a cloud of smoke to fester and dissipate.

At the sound of Haruka yelping, Ichigo jerked his face toward her, alarmed when he felt a fist slam into his midriff knocking the wind from his lungs. His vision blacked at the ends he lowered his eyes to the wicked golden orbs staring back at him like a fire threatening to burn him. The strength behind the blow forced him to the ground.

Eyes darkened with every blink until it welcomed him.


	6. Cycle

**Chapter Five, **"Cycle"

* * *

Nagata Taishi remembered losing against death. His life had been teetering atop scant thread, scarcely escaping demise until the words of a hermit managed to knock his world off balance. He lost his mind before coming close to losing his life. All he remembered during excruciating bouts of pain was the insatiable need to escape from the very face of the planet, and when metal scrapping against asphalt came to his ears like a charming ring, resembling the blare of his alarm, it called him back to reality.

Karma's a bitch, he thought upon entering darkness. He wasn't quite sure he expected to be conscious of his surroundings after death because he clearly felt his heart stop and breathing cease. His mind flushed clean as minutes ticked away inside his head, unaware of time beyond death. Footsteps departed, a heavy metal door shut, and he remained stilled in a vast cold room.

"Enishi."

He recognized the voice of the golden-hued man and acknowledged he was calling to him.

Eyes flickered open, blue orbs tinged with flecks of gold glimmered beneath the fluorescents, and met with the collected man standing at his side holding his bowler hat to his chest almost apologetically. His expression showed no emotion as he set a hand atop marble skin, stiffened from hours of infinite slumber.

"I am Watanabe Kouyou," he announced, yet it felt more like a reintroduction, "the Hierophant."

He blinked, more flecks of gold threaded along the irises of his cold eyes.

"We are pressed for time," started Kouyou, "and it would be foolish for me to prattle about your ludicrous decision. I will brief you on the subsequent events of the Wild Card."

Warmth flowed through skin contact and continued flooding his senses until it became a searing jolt of heat rushing through his veins. He felt faint movement in his body, hardened skin slowly turned human, as pain came roaring within him…forcing his stilled heart to give a beat. The ache of bruises came first.

"You have thirteen hours to reawaken, to embrace a life and duty left in a life too distant to recall," Kouyou drawled, words curt and final. "It is not in my jurisdiction to contain you, but I swore to Nagisa to deliver you safely into the hands of those capable of subduing your power. Regrettably, the ability necessary to ensure your unscathed arrival into this world is a bud, a neophyte that can barely control a proper barrier, so I will seal you." He stared straightly into his widened orbs, recognizing the pain expressed in those eyes the second he began speaking. "That concludes the briefing."

Taishi wanted to scream viciously at the man and order a remedy to the pain threatening to turn his insides to dust, but he couldn't will his body to function. His lips were sealed, tongue lifeless inside, and voiceless.

It hurt harder than any beating he received, more than all of them put together.

"But that is not my reason for coming," Kouyou stated finally. "There is a young girl in need of your protection. She is set to die once every month starting tomorrow, but you will impede her death."

_Impede her death?_

"You are Death, a force one cannot control," he said, "your ruling functions outside the Arcana's authority."

_Death?_

"Meet me upon your awakening," he finished surely. "I expect Wakatsuki Haruka and Kurosaki Ichigo to be in your custody by that time."

A blinding light followed stagnant silence and his body fell into a world beyond his recognition. It was an area of vast space and infernal darkness, solely lit by a spiraling white staircase. He fell further past the circle until the numbness of his body dissipated and burned out candles surrounded his body, wisps of gray smoke drifted upward carelessly. A film of memories wrapped itself about his mind, playing like a fast-forwarded movie.

He closed his eyes.

A mantle of darkness surrounded his form until all trace of color departed his being. His skin turned a ghostly translucent tone, his hair lost the dark dye it retained for the past three months and from the crown of his head came a tint of white. It flushed like a wave until it colored the tips in the same shade of white Kouyou had. The mantle wound around his blood-sullied clothes until it fit him like an antique officer's garb, a dark uniform with silver buttons and fitted pants, along with tall boots.

He expected to hit the ground hard, felt the air around him diminish in quantity and pressure, but managed to land safely. Sound resonated upward, spiraling up the staircase until it disappeared.

His eyes flickered open, a shade of golden, and a malevolent smirk curved his lips.

Blood thirst lingered heavily in the air. "Nagisa is so fucking dead."

* * *

_Pitter. Patter. Drip. Drop._

The sound of water splashing into tiny puddles forced her back into consciousness. Boots crunching against gravel echoed in the deepest part of her mind and as bright blue eyes flickered opened, darkness waved in greeting. A strong scent burned her nostrils. It smelled of rusted pipes and sewer water and blood. Other faint scents were simply intensified by the humid climate. She felt the heat weighing down her body. She stretched her limbs out when her back hit something hard.

Startled, Haruka patted behind her, feeling fabrics and arms and a head and muscles and someone that was definitely male. It was a short while before she realized there was someone lying next to her with his back against hers. She wiggled around; the rickety springs of an old mattress sounded with each abrupt movement, and found a leather jacket sitting over her legs. She tossed it aside, struggling into a seat once she took a gulp of air, and squinted through darkness to find a familiar violet hooded sweater and a pair of black jeans. Her skeptical mind cleared.

"Kurosaki?" she called dubiously. "Kuro…saki…?"

She shook him by the shoulder, the clanking of metal reached her ears, and she stretched over. Running her fingers over his arm, she found something sleek and cold clamped around his wrists. Her stomach plummeted as she made a slight realization, yesterday's—_had it been yesterday?—_memories were covered by a fog in her mind. A dark chill strummed through her being, leaving her skin horripilated in its wake. The air thinned, mind whirled, and darkness prevailed like its own entity.

She stumbled onto her feet, arms and legs unrestricted by shackles, and scampered off with her arms held out to feel around her surroundings. She felt increasingly lighter with few uncomfortable aches and pains prickling her body and restlessly wandered, stubbing her feet over uneven ground. A bit of light filtered through a gargantuan opening in the ceiling that held a fan-like structure behind mossy retainers. It fell across long walkways stretching from one end to the other, crisscrossing at the centers, which were held up by tightly bolted chains over the ceiling. It drizzled down like rain in a deserted plane, illuminating random patches to guide her closer to large doors and the buzzing sound of voices.

She never made it to the highlighted doorway. She halted upon hearing the doors being forced open and a familiar voice, deep and mocking, reached her ears. She was blinded by the flood of sunlight as the doors creaked open like an iron-wrought gate. She turned her face away instinctively, closing her eyes as the sun's warmth lessened the extremity of her goose bumps, and as footsteps came to a stop, she slowly turned back to face these strangers.

There were two men staring back at her astonishment with ominous expressions. One was an older man with bone-colored hair and bright golden orbs smartly dressed in a tailored brown suit. He looked like the type to hire a tailor to make his wardrobe than enter a suit store and buy them off the shelf. The professional look suited him, as he was tall, aged, and filled the clothes just right and she noted he seemed foreign, more like an outer space alien than human.

The taller, younger man at his side had tousled blond hair that was dripping water from the tips framing an angular face, and blue eyes that almost looked transparent. He dressed completely opposite to the older man, wearing frayed skinny jeans, a black t-shirt with white block letters spelling something foreign and splatters across the underside, and a pair of dark boots, complete with white shoelaces. There were chains hanging from his studded belt, looped around and clasped behind him.

She registered his face first, familiarity hung heavily in the air, but apart from the nagging feeling, she felt she lost a piece of her memory. Water kept dripping in the background as Ichigo groaned, rolling onto his back, he slowly regained consciousness.

She spared him a quick glance before returning her eyes to the strangers.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo sounded upset, his restraints sounded noisily. "Who the hell are you?"

"Good morning, Kurosaki Ichigo." The old man stepped toward him, taking slow but precise strides in his direction, his voice was low and sagacious like the deeper cords in a guitar. The low tenor drew attention to him, he commanded a room, and the acoustics rang overheard, squeezing by the fan to single out and finally disappear. "My name is Watanabe Kouyou and my companion is called Nagata Taishi."

_Nagata Taishi._

"I don't care who you are, untie me!"

Haruka's eyes remained focused on the blond as she forced her memory's mechanics into work. She needed to remember why his name and face sounded familiar and wanted a reason as to why she felt unexplainably safe in their presence.

"_Nagata Taishi?_" Ichigo sounded skeptical.

"Oi, Kurosaki-chan," called Taishi, raising a hand in a mocking gesture. "Haven't seen you since you and Yasutora were stirring trouble on my turf. How've you been?"

"You're supposed to be dead!"

That snapped her fogged memory into focus as she recalled the final seconds before consciousness abandoned her the previous day. Nagata Taishi had simply dyed his dark hair and appeared in fresh clothes without a flesh wound in sight. He looked flawless. Even after she bore witness to the savage wounds he retained after a group of delinquents took a bat to his face as he sped by on his motorcycle, she feigned ignorance to stay out of trouble. She rushed to his side like a pull of magnetism, sloppily dialing a number to call for an ambulance, before rushing home.

She swallowed hard.

"I am dead," he answered, smirking. "As you can see."

Ichigo stared at him long and hard, hopeful thoughts filling his head, when Nagata Taishi burst into a heap of hysterics.

Watanabe Kouyou shot him a stern glare, disapproving of his actions.

Haruka stood completely still, the aches in her body increasing and the images blurring from the edges out. She felt strange the second she woke up, but had decided to ignore the obvious signs her body was sending.

"Did you see his fucking face, old man?" cried Taishi, mid-hysterics. "He actually thought he got his powers back, like you can grow them overnight. You're such a fucking idiot! Ha! Grow them back!"

"Bastard," cursed Ichigo, immobilized by restraints and an unexplained pressure on his chest.

"Nagata-san, this is not the time for cruel jokes," started Kouyou. "We are short on time."

It took Taishi many heaving breaths before he managed to pull back from his mocking laughter.

She had said nothing as her breathing started turning erratic, merely watched with wide-open eyes to see a world she wasn't sure remained in her field of vision for long.

"How much longer?"

Taishi's eyes flashed in her direction, turning a richer shade of gold. "Seconds," he said, taking a step toward her.

"Stay away from Wakatsuki!"

She didn't hear Ichigo's words clearly, but…

"Keep your eyes open, Kurosaki," said Taishi cockily. "It's not every day I put on a show."

…It seemed as though Taishi's voice echoed in her head, guiding her towards the darkest corner in her head as colors blurred before her eyes and sick, distorted images replaced them in a snap of fingers.

Her hands shot to her head, pain pounded against the walls like a caged animal, and as the first grisly beast approached her, she screamed—a blood curling yell that echoed beyond the abandoned structure. The rest was yanked from her memory and her consciousness was lost, body overcome with excruciating joint pain and fear.

She continued screaming and fighting. Her body moved on its own.

* * *

"Call an ambulance! She's having a seizure!"

Ichigo couldn't move. He could only shout and watch as Haruka dropped to the ground after screaming so loud his ears popped. He noticed Watanabe moving an inch closer to him, taking an almost protective stance before him and lifted a finger to hush him. The action pissed him off as he tried to force his body to move. It didn't even budge. His limbs felt like they were made out of marble.

"She'll die!"

Taishi shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Her fault," he said, stopping when he was standing directly atop her, boots straddling her waist with a few inches apart. "She hasn't been drinking her new medicine because it worsens her psychosis."

"What?" he questioned skeptically, voice hoarse.

"Wakatsuki Haruka is set to die at this hour," explained Watanabe. "Her doctor gave her a month to live if the new medication wasn't successful. Haruka's disease worsened after that automotive accident. It was a miracle that man brought her back to life. She had already been dead ten minutes."

"Then call a fucking ambulance before she dies!" he shouted irately. If they knew she was dying, why were they letting her fall limp under that delinquent's harsh scrutiny?

"Impossible," replied Watanabe. "He is the only one that can force her back to life."

Ichigo opened his mouth to continue protesting when he saw Haruka fall completely limp, eyes rolled to the back of her head, and the building fell into a hush. He felt a pressure in the center of his chest. He forgot to breathe.

_Dead…_

"Nagata-san…"

"Twelve hours," he answered, perplexed.

Watanabe looked shocked as his voice faltered, "I-Impossible."

"I'll kill you twice for lying to me." He sounded bitter and resentful while staring down Haruka's body with frustration etched in his expression. Hands clenched so hard his knuckles turned bone white.

"Is…it…?"

Taishi turned assuredly. "It's her."

Ichigo was stunned, but that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Taishi crouched down over her body, reaching to touch her forehead with the palm of his hand as his fingers wrung through her messy brown hair. His expression remained placid for many minutes, but when Ichigo felt a nauseating wave shoot through him, the blond's teeth grit. Even Watanabe looked uncomfortable.

"What's going on…?"

Whatever affected him was surely the reason for everyone's disconcerted expressions.

"He is suppressing the cycle."

"Cycle?"

"Watch."

He did, with eager curiosity.

Within seconds he could feel the pressure on his body intensify and the nausea wavering. Taishi kept his hand to her head, grip progressively tightening as Haruka remained completely unaffected. He grinded his teeth, growled painfully as a flash of light sliced through his t-shirt.

"You fucking bitch," he cursed. "I'm not going to play this fucking game with you."

"She is fighting," explained Watanabe with a strain to his composed voice.

It was evident as the light overhead simmered and with every ticking second, fresh wounds appeared on Taishi's crouched body. Strong winds moved the walkways hanging from the ceilings, rusted metal screeched annoyingly, and a stack of craters imploded, wooden planks flying in every direction. A tiny piece hit the back of Ichigo's head, stealing his attention for a mere minute, but brown orbs returned to the object of his confusion.

Taishi was bleeding profusely, coughing out inhumane amounts of crimson. He might have already been dead if he was, indeed, human, but he stayed poised, taking hit after hit, until it happened. Every noise subsided; the abandoned factory was cloaked in complete, utter silence.

Haruka's eyes snapped open and she took a startling breath. She held her chest, taking gulping breaths as she stared at the bleeding man with confusion. Eyes taking in her surroundings in the midst of her confusion, settling once her gaze settled on Ichigo.

The pressure pinning Ichigo dissipated and Watanabe dipped down to undo the handcuffs, letting him jump to his feet and rush to the startled girl.

Taishi dropped his hold on her, straightened out and walked away, stretching out his limbs. "Next time, we use a barrier," he offered, glaring at Watanabe who merely breathed a sigh of relief.

"What happened?" asked Haruka, feeling warm blood slide over her face.

Ichigo pulled her onto a seat, holding her back until she steadied herself. She was looking at him for answers and he felt incredibly useless knowing he couldn't provide them as he looked to Taishi's back. "I don't know."

"You have been brought back from the dead, Wakatsuki Haruka," came Watanabe's swift reply, feet echoing against glossy uneven floor.

She stiffened. "I'm dead?"

Watanabe nodded curtly. "You were dead a mere five minutes."

"I'm a zombie?" she asked, sounding deathly serious and equally devastated. She shot a glance at Taishi's skeptical face. "Like him?"

"Zombie?" questioned Ichigo, incredulous.

She looked to him, worried, before turning to Watanabe. "He ate my brains, right? You're the necromancer that brought us back—the evil scientist. That's why I don't—"

"Wakatsuki," Ichigo interrupted quickly, grabbing her attention and clutching it for dear life. "You need to stop playing zombie videogames."

"You're still human, idiot," stated Taishi. "And zombies don't even fucking exist."

"You never know," she stated pointedly.

"Old man!"

"Let me explain," began Watanabe, calling forth all willing ears. "Our duty is to protect you, Wakatsuki Haruka."

"But I'm already protected," she answered rashly. "My dad, Ishida-sensei, Isshin-chan, and recently Urahara-san and Yoruichi-san are working hard to keep me outta harm's way."

Nagata scoffed. "You think they're honestly protecting you?" he questioned in disbelief, nose wrinkling with disgust. "Get a fucking clue. They're waiting until you die so they can kill you again. You think they'd let a monster like you run around active. Fuck no. You'd make a bigger circus outta this town than four-eyes."

Ichigo's eyes widened, mind coming to a sudden halt. The air grew thicker and the pain in his chest surged as his brain processed memories he long ago chose to get rid it of.

"Four-eyes?"

Nagata smirked upon recognizing his expression, having been watching him intently as the conversation progressed. "Kurosaki-chan might know a thing or two about Aizen Sōsuke, why not ask him when you get the chance?"

"How do you know about Aizen?" he spat, hands clenching.

Haruka had dropped her head, no longer listening to conversation—her expression void of emotion, but her frail body threatening to erupt with it. Ichigo noticed shortly after speaking, but before rebuking to her cause, Nagata interrupted.

"We know everything and more," Nagata stated eerily.

The frustration threatened to boil over as he swiftly took a stand, but Haruka barreled forward to stand between whatever malignant energy threaded between the two. She lifted her face to Nagata defiantly and watched his arrogant expression simmer to one of boredom.

There was something strange about standing in the room with three strange individuals, there was a magnetism and a power that threatened to squeeze what little oxygen filled his lungs. He felt it previously, but failed to pay it any attention.

"Get out."

Her tone was firm.

Nagata stared at her dubiously. "The fuck?"

"Get out. Now."

Watanabe interrupted Nagata's sinister position, placing a hand to his shoulder and giving him a healthy push back. "We have finished here. There rest can be left unaccounted."

Nagata jabbed a finger in front of Haruka. "I can have you dead in a fucking second."

She stood her ground.

The older man was forced to remind him of their duty. "We are supposed to keep her living, not have her die. We must take you into hiding before Wakatsuki Hiko comes to hunt you."

"My dad?"

"Oi, Kurosaki, you better watch her like she's the fucking Dalai Lama, got it?" warned Taishi, voice littered with daunting undertones.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "I don't need you to tell me. I'm already watching her."

Nagata barked a laugh. "Come 'ere, I'll give you a parting gift, just to make sure you don't miss a beat," he said promptly with a wicked, untrustworthy smirk. "Try not making it obvious."

Warily, Ichigo approached him after casting a hesitant glance toward Haruka, who had been brought to life by the same delinquent making the offer. His curiosity overwhelmed him as he took another firm step toward the two strangers, expecting something to come about the union never crossed his mind. He only wanted to get out of there as soon as possible with Haruka in tow and return to their respective homes, possibly pretending nothing out of the ordinary occurred. That seemed to be right up his alley.

Watanabe stood between the two as Nagata slapped his hand over the teen's forehead, drawing a pained growl. "What the—?"

He felt something swarm through him, a familiar feeling, something rehabilitating. There was no pain or anything suspicious. "You're going to be my eyes, brat," he uttered, displeased, "but seriously, don't make it obvious. If you fuck up, well, I'll have to come kill you."

Haruka nearly burst as she stepped forward. "Why does my dad want you—?"

Watanabe and Nagata vanished in a wisp of black smoke like a fading apparition.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I need to take you home."

She agreed wordlessly.

* * *

Throughout their return trip to Karakura Town, from a neighboring abandoned factory out by the seaside, Ichigo wondered what Nagata meant by his words and what the hell else were they to expect. Haruka sat beside him on the train, huddled against him, dead tired for reasons she didn't understand. He let her sleep the entire way, stealing the occasional glance to make sure she was breathing. His mind was buzzing with activity, mostly questions he couldn't ask Haruka because they were equally left in the dark. He knew he could get his answers from Watanabe Kouyou, who appeared to know everything there was about Haruka's condition, and understood Nagata Taishi, notorious (dead) delinquent, forced her back among the living. But that was a far stretch from what he first imagined. He could have merely allowed her to die and turn into a spirit to be reaped by shinigami, but he was set to believe their parents and Urahara were all out to kill her. None of their actions asserted that idea.

_Shit._

They even knew about Aizen and his past as a shinigami. How much did they know? How far did their knowledge spawn? Who were they?

He had a horrible feeling.

Haruka was running a fever as the train eased into the station for their stop. He woke her gently, helping her on her feet and guided her wobbly form onto the platform. He had his eyes glued to the ground, making sure she didn't twist he ankle, voices boomed through the large dome when something caught his attention.

"…and tell Wakatsuki-san she's safe."

He lifted his gaze to black and white uniformed strangers, walking with them, eyes focused on the feverish girl. He blinked, for a moment thinking himself delusional enough to manifest shinigami, when he remembered Nagata's words.

_"…but seriously, don't make it obvious. If you fuck up, well, I'll have to come kill you."_

_Is this what he meant?_ He struggled to ignore the buzzing conversation as the shinigami followed close behind.

When they exited, a larger swarm awaited them, looking relieved and almost celebrating after she had disappeared from their radar.

"The Thirteenth Hour finished. It seems Wakatsuki-san and Kurosaki are searching for Death with Urahara's help."

_Thirteenth Hour? Death?_

"We're on red alert."

"Damn, we haven't been on red alert since—when was it?"

"Prolly since Death nearly destroyed Soul Society."

The shinigami looked incredibly stressed. He stole a few casual glances whenever he was given the opportunity. He was slightly…confused and pleased with his sudden ability to see them…but knew his excitement was ill placed. He needed to rush Haruka to home where he would pressure her into drinking her medication. He also needed to contemplate some approach toward this strange new development without making it obvious.

Silently, he dreaded the mere thought of it.

* * *

Everything for them slumped back into normalcy.

Haruka's condition stabilized enough to give her a free pass to return to school in junction with Arashi and Ichigo. From the moment, Ishida Ryūken gave her that news Haruka had been excited. Her mood lightened progressively. She continued painting and playing video games on her big screen television, challenging anyone willing to play against her. She ran around the house with Ueda (who had been dead the morning of their abduction) playing hide and seek. Her father talked to her about an art exhibit where a contest would be partaking. He offered to sign her up. She was more than willing to procure an entry and got straight to painting on a large canvas. It was something straight out of her sketchbook.

During that time, Ichigo continued doing his job, using the money he earned to do something fun for Karin and Yuzu and offer Haruka the occasional snack (as well as the occasional outing). He took notice of the amount of shinigami prowling the Wakatsuki manor, even the servants were shinigami (Ueda included, who had only been badly injured while her gigai had been torn apart). There was always a group outside patrolling the area and it had his mind buzzing with activity. Were they protecting Haruka? Or was that their way of protecting themselves? He was never sure what to believe and he couldn't go on asking questions. He'd have Nagata Taishi to answer to and it was something he'd best avoid.

Nothing had been heard about the delinquent, only that every shinigami took turns tracking him down. Many said he simply vanished. Wakatsuki Hiko was never certain. He trusted someone was aiding Nagata and that something deadly was brewing. Everyone looked conflicted with that saddened reality, while others grew uncharacteristically frustrated.

_"Use Haruka as bait, he'll take it without batting an eyelash."_

_"Yeah, if he went through the trouble of abducting Haruka means she's the one."_

_"That's true; his actions always read the same. And we heard the Hierophant intervened."_

_"I'm not using Haruka," Hiko stated strongly, convinced his deductions were correct. "She's not the one. If anything, she could be bait. They're luring us away from the real one."_

Haruka's father was also a shinigami. He was in charge of the rest, actually.

Voices rang in his ears at every direction and it was a struggle trying to act as though the shinigami cluttered in the Wakatsuki home didn't exist. He opted for distraction and eventually, he fell into a rhythm around Haruka's gargantuan home. There was always something to do, if one ignored the oddities and shinigami coming in and out of the house, and as Haruka felt better, she seemed more energetic.

Summer vacation ended before they knew it.

Ichigo and Haruka never talked about Nagata or Watanabe since they stumbled out of that factory with a head full of questions. Nothing was resolved. Everything remained a cluttered mess and he was constantly reminded of it.

When he accepted Hiko's job those long weeks ago, his dad said something to him: _"Don't get too close to her. You'll be disappointed in the long-run." _He looked at his dad in complete utter disbelief because the words were cryptic in their own way—he scarcely understood the meaning and merely pushed them to the back of his mind to be forgotten. He had always been curiously pursuing a response, searching for clues in Haruka to find some relevancy in those words. It was like a pull he couldn't necessarily ignore and it kept pulling him closer until he recognized the tiniest of details.

Haruka was strange. She lived in her own fantasy world. She understood she was supposed to die, not because the illness was killing her, but for a much larger reason even she couldn't fathom. She painted because she had an affinity to it. She played video games claiming they helped wire the creativity in her head. But there was more.

There was mystery and that slight quality about her made him believe in his dad's words.

He didn't want to regret not taking them seriously.

* * *

Haruka stood before a full-length mirror after donning her gray uniform. Her layered golden-brown hair messily framed her pallid complexion, light blue eyes blinking drowsily, dark circles underneath stuck out like a sore thumb. She pivoted, snatching a red sweater from a nearby chair, and slid into it as she heard the sound of Ueda's footsteps approaching her bedroom.

She grabbed her schoolbag. Arashi was shouting for her to hurry up, his voice projected by the incredible acoustics.

When Ueda opened the door, Haruka was standing with a light smile.

"Will you be okay?" asked the plump maid.

"Yes," said Haruka, slipping past her and heading down the hall. "I'll be okay."

"I'm going to leave without you!" hollered Arashi.

Haruka rushed down the staircase and turned straight into the hall leading outside to find Arashi waiting by the open door impatiently. He held her up at the door with a deep frown as he reached behind her to drape her hood over her head.

"Let's go."

He took her schoolbag and rushed into the black car awaiting them. She followed suit, hearing Ueda call farewell and stepped over her brother who shut the car door behind her before plopping down on the other side.

She heard the chime of his cellphone and cast a fleeting glance in his direction, curiosity brimming in her eyes, before turning her gaze out the tinted windows. The chauffer had slowly made his way down the steep slope that held their home and carefully took every sharp turn that followed. She busied herself with the scenery outside, listening close to her brother's murmured complaints as he replied to an unpleasant text message.

The road was bumpy as they reared a crossroads.

"You know," drawled Arashi, leaning into his seat as he directed his attention to her. He snapped his cell phone shut. "You never told me what happened?"

"What happened?" she asked, facing him.

"You went missing for a few hours," he replied snidely, reminding her sudden disappearance. "Or did you sleep through it?"

She turned away, propping her elbow on the car door, placing her cheek against her open palm. "I was with Kurosaki."

"That sounds suspicious."

"I don't have to tell you what I do with my time."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't recommend it," he remarked, pausing. "Usually, your hobbies are tedious to acknowledge, but you stepped out of your comfort zone there. That interests me. It's why I asked and want to know."

"Nothing happened."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she murmured, looking at the brace over his left hand. "How are you doing?"

He patted it. "Perfect."

"You never told me what happened."

"It's not an interesting story," he countered. "You know I hate bad stories."

She had averted her eyes as the chauffer turned into a larger street, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "_He _broke it, didn't he?"

"Ahh," Arashi drawled, arching an eyebrow. "Then, you do know what happened?"

She remained silent, staring off into space.

"He hates you, you know?" he remarked pointedly. "He only helped because he was coerced, otherwise, you'd be dead."

"I don't care."

* * *

Ichigo walked through the school halls with Mizuiro, heading for the stairs when he caught sight of Haruka standing in front of her classroom, looking extremely uncomfortable. He stopped suddenly, patted Mizuiro on the shoulder, and excused himself. There were still a few minutes before the school day started.

"Wakatsuki," he called, drawing her attention. "I didn't think you'd actually show."

She nodded. "Ueda wanted me to stay."

He opened his mouth to speak when he heard rushing steps and a vivacious voice. "Ichigo!"

He quickly moved out of the way, letting a redhead stumbling into a halt. "Tomo," he cursed. "Damnit."

Tomo shoved past him, startling Haruka as she leaned forward to have a better look at her. She curled her fingers underneath her chin and stared long and hard as Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You look nothing like your brother," she remarked, turning to Ichigo. "I thought they were supposed to be twins."

"Don't talk about her like she's not there," stated Ichigo, bothered. "At least introduce yourself."

The redhead blinked and nodded suddenly. "Yamaguchi Tomo."

"Wakatsuki Haruka," offered the shorter girl.

"So, are you and your brother actually twins?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"Oh," started Tomo, looking from Haruka to Ichigo with an interested smile. "Did you hear about the transfer student and the new teacher?"

Haruka nodded. "My homeroom teacher is being replaced."

Tomo looked surprised. "Then you heard the bad news?"

"What bad news?" Ichigo asked.

"It's all over the news, too," commented the redhead, shaking her head in disappointment. "One of the teachers in the school was killed during summer vacation, apparently he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, you know. I'm sorry 'bout that, Wakatsuki; I didn't actually know you were in class 2-1."

"I didn't know him. I just started."

"Ah, never mind then." The redhead got over that quickly with a brief shrug of her shoulders.

Around Karakura High, Yamaguchi Tomo was popular for her information network and that kept everyone from ever noticing she wasn't necessarily human. He and Orihime met her in the middle of the Winter War. He was surprised he didn't see her at Urahara Shoten when he was there with Haruka, but figured that was a good thing.

"I'm heading upstairs," Ichigo said, ignoring his classmate as he regarded Haruka. "I'll see you afterschool."

"Oi, don't leave me behind!" Tomo rushed after him, waving frantically at the girl. "Nice to meet you, Wakatsuki!"

Tomo caught up to Ichigo quickly. "She's really quiet."

"She's not good with new people."

"What? Everyone knows me! There's no use being shy!" Tomo's looked over her shoulder before climbing up the staircase, reached out for Ichigo and stopped him mid step. "'Ey look."

Ichigo slipped over the step and turned back. "What the hell?" he complained, but immediately noticed what she meant. "What…?"

"That must be the new teacher."

Haruka was walking back into her classroom and behind her was a tall blond in a casual suit.

Ichigo could spot Nagata Taishi a mile away and that was definitely him. And something told him, he might have had something to do with the dead homeroom teacher.

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Worst. Chapter. Ever.

I can't even remember how many times I rewrote it until this piece of heaven struck. I needed to reveal a few things, but not enough for anyone to figure anything out. The trek was a horrible experience! I kept revealing too much and then, eventually, gave up...until now.

So, we know a few things. Arcana is mentioned, you know, like Major Arcana. Yep, and we've got a Hierophant and Death. Let's say that when I started planning Thirteen (back when it was Orange Blossom) I had grown heavily addicted to the Shin Megami Tensei Persona games and that influenced me greatly. I then did a heap of research on Tarot and reading and was influenced more. So, that's the slight origin of the plot. I'll tell you the other half when we get to it. Deal? :)

I wrote this to the best of my ability. I only wish it was loads better. Look at me, pessimist. Ha! Ignore me. :P

Thank you for reading. :)

P.S. - No, Yamaguchi Tomo is not there to be a pest (though she will), she actually plays a large role in this arc. She and an unpleasant blast from the past. ;) Oh, and I'm still looking for a beta for this story. Check my profile for details.


	7. Illusion

**Chapter Six, **"Illusion"

* * *

Haruka watched as Nagata Taishi took a piece of chalk and meticulously spelled out the characters in his name on the blackboard for the awed students to see. The blond deviant was the last person she expected to meet in school, especially as the new homeroom and history teacher.

Nagata didn't seem to like teenagers much, or people for that matter. So, it was strange to see him standing in the shoes of life's most human-filled profession, and it was worse knowing he had kidnapped her and Kurosaki Ichigo not too long ago—still guiltless, of course.

He didn't look adept in history, but wore a pair of square glasses and a brown blazer with patches over the elbows. He figured looking the part might avert attention from his obvious lack of knowledge.

From across the room, Haruka could see Wakamura Sayo touching up her make-up behind a standing history book and eying their new teacher with a slight glint. Looking at the rest of the student body, Haruka was sure Nagata would make a nice, temporary diversion for them. Everyone was always excited about getting a new teacher.

"So," he started hastily, turning around to lean on the wooden podium, "your homeroom and history teacher passed away in a series of unfortunate events and we send our condolences to his family for the grave loss." Students all around lowered their heads in understanding, but Nagata saw straight through them. "I heard his reputation around here sucked, so the lot of you are either faking—"

"Nagata-sensei!" Unknowingly, Haruka burst out of her seat, hand raised high above her head with a wave of pink tinting her cheeks.

Everyone's eyes fell on her, the ruckus sounded with an echo in the back of her mind. She felt her nerves go into overtime. Her body moved on its own. It almost felt like she had no control.

Nagata arched an eyebrow, peeved. "What can you possibly want?" he asked, straining to keep whatever remained of his debilitating patience. "I was in the middle of something."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Y-yes…umm…I—"

Wakamura cleared her throat and stood, dark hair framing her slender face. "Nagata-sensei, Wakatsuki-san hasn't been here from the start of the year due to illness," she said with mock kindness, shooting Haruka a worrisome expression. "I think she deserves a proper _re_introduction as nobody in this classroom knows who she is."

Nagata didn't look pleased as he straightened out. "Oh yeah?" he said nonchalantly, eyeing Wakamura with aversion. "Why'd do you know her _and_ the reason she was gone for that matter? She could be some spoiled rich kid that got to go on a trip around the world or maybe she found the cure for cancer while she was gone? She could've done anything."

Haruka's face burned in mortification.

Wakamura's sweetened smile failed to falter, though she had obviously taken insult to his way of speaking. She expected men of all sorts to fawn over her like the rest of the classroom. "I went to the same middle school as Wakatsuki-san and know her health is poor."

Nagata folded his arms over his chest and stepped in front of the podium. "Fine, why don't _you _tell us about Wakatsuki-_san_ since you know so much about her?"

Wakamura scoffed. "You can't honestly expect me to—"

"This is incredibly unfair," cried groupie number one.

"Yeah, it is!" supported groupie number two.

"She was just trying to be nice," murmured the president of the Wakamura Sayo fan club, facing away in fear of Nagata's glare.

Haruka hadn't moved an inch, frozen in position and growing another shade of scarlet with every scrutinizing sideway glance. She could have easily fainted and it wouldn't have made her first day back at school any easier.

Nagata Taishi looked like he was enjoying himself. He tapped his index finger impatiently to his elbow, eyes narrowing at Wakamura who had thanked her acquaintances for their kindness before raising her gaze to meet his. It was a wary and hesitant gesture. He saw it flash through her eyes.

"Wakatsuki-san is in the art club," said Wakamura, facing the classroom.

"Art club," drawled Nagata, feigning interest as his eyes fell on the spectacle herself. "You draw, sculpt, mold, or paint? Or are you one of those digitally enlightened individuals."

"Paint," Haruka squeaked.

"Is she any good?" he asked Wakamura.

That hit a nerve. If there was anything Wakamura hated most in the world, it was praising Haruka's work (even if it was considered ingenious by various standards). Wakamura had a bigger passion for painting than Haruka and it was almost unfair how easily it came to her, so she was never happy at any school exhibitions or festivals in which Haruka's paintings beat out hers. Many had commented on the vast differences between their arts and so long as Haruka was still alive and well, Wakamura would always be second best.

"W-well that depends."

"A-ha," he sounded slowly, clapping his hands together. "This is a publicity stunt. You're trying to gain a better reputation by using Wakatsuki's lengthy absence and your school companionship as a boost." His lips curved upward as he watched Wakamura's eyebrows knit in frustration. "Admit it. Wakatsuki's paintings suck."

"That's not it!" cried the collective Wakamura fan club members.

"They do suck," stated Nagata snidely. "I don't get it at all, but hey, I liked your new painting,_ Death's Requiem_, was it?"

Haruka dropped her hand to her side as an ache spread over her shoulder to her arm and the color drained from her face. "How do you know about that painting?"

He laughed heartily, reaching behind him for the attendance sheet and turning serious. "Wakamura-san, Wakatsuki-san, sit down," he said calmly, a simple smile on his lips. "I'm going to call roll, like any good teacher. If you're here, say it, if you're not here, I won't blame you. Japanese History blows."

Haruka slowly returned to her seat, setting her hands on top of her notebook and pen as the deafening silence shattered with the first spring of gossip that morning.

_"Oh my gosh! Is he bipolar?"_

_"Sure sounds like it."_

_"Why would he insult someone as nice as Wakamura-san? I'm reporting this."_

"I wish I was bipolar," stated Nagata with a wide smile, having heard everything said, "because then I'd have a perfectly good excuse for being an asshole. I felt like it. Report it." Ice blue orbs flickered upward, daunting. "I have good ears and the acoustics here are great. Watch what you say, I'm not that patient."

The silence returned and stayed throughout the bored-sounding lecture Nagata read out of a notebook, threatening everyone to pay close attention to everything he said. He announced a test for tomorrow morning and urged them to read half of the textbook as a precaution. While the anguish was quick to register on every student's face, nobody dared to groan in complaint.

Not until Nagata left the classroom.

Haruka sunk into her desk and went through the rest of her classes feeling comfortably invisible, but she was left with a bitter taste in her mouth. Something about that day definitely felt odd.

* * *

"Wakatsuki!"

Haruka jolted and slowly glanced over her shoulder to see Kurosaki Ichigo standing behind her. "_Oh, _hi."

"Don't '_hi_'me!" He wound around to face her directly. "Why's Nagata here?"

She looked at him befuddled, holding a tiny purse to her chest as she had been on her way to buy lunch. "Can you buy me strawberry milk and oatmeal bread?"

"What?"

She pushed her flowery purse into his hands and stared at him, determined. "We can go together, but you do it."

She slipped past him, leading the way down the hall towards the student store and with an irritated air, Ichigo followed suit. Jogging the first few steps to catch up to her stride, he refused to drop his issue. He could have easily hunted Nagata Taishi down and asked him the exact same answer instead of pestering Haruka with it, but he was suspicious of her initial reaction. The mere mention of his name immediately veered her down a different venue and she strung him along with ease.

"You knew he was here," he surmised. It had suddenly dawned on him.

"Do you think they'll still have banana bread?"

"Are you listening to me at all?" he asked, voice growing irritated.

"…You see, I like oatmeal, too, but I prefer banana…" Haruka's eyes drifted backward as her voice trailed off and she suddenly halted. "I don't know why he's here, but I'm sure he killed Ogata."

"Ogata?" he said quizzically.

"The ancient magician that taught Japanese History at Karakura High," she said gravely. "I think Nagata killed him."

His eyes narrowed in blatant disbelief. "…Did you—did you just call him an _ancient magician_?"

"I heard rumors that he was a tyrant, so I think it was a humanistic decision—to kill him, you see," she continued, whispering lower and lower. "So Nagata's not in jail because he did it for the people."

"…Wakatsuki?"

Her eyes gleamed, hopeful. "Yes?"

"…Stop mixing fiction with reality."

Haruka dejectedly took a step away from him, letting the sleeves of her hoodie fall over her hands. "Fine."

"…But I think so, too."

She looked at him sideways. "What?"

"That he might've killed Ogata, if that's your homeroom teacher."

She nodded in confirmation.

Ichigo's eyebrows knitted, unable to keep the possibilities in his mind from overflowing. If Nagata Taishi was that close by, it meant he wanted something because people like him don't show up for nothing. "Damnit."

"Kurosaki…?"

"What?" he asked snappishly.

"…I'm hungry."

"O-oh, right," he said, falling out of his slump and continuing forward. "Sorry about that."

* * *

"I heard you wanted to see me, Kurosaki_-kun_."

Ichigo stepped into the faculty office to see Nagata Taishi dressed smartly with his messy hair pushed back and a pair non-prescription glasses covering his eyes, who spun around to face him on his desk chair. He regarded him with a testy smile.

"I never said that," Ichigo said evenly.

Nagata loosened his stripped tie and leaned into his chair comfortably. Most teachers were on the far end of the room, out of earshot, so it was easy to carry on a conversation and not worry about eavesdropping. "You didn't have to. You're just so predictable; I'd be ashamed if I didn't already know."

"What are you doing here?" he asked seriously.

"Dying sucks, Kurosaki-kun," remarked Nagata. "I lost my apartment, motorcycle, and job. I needed money. Not everyone has the luxury of keeping a pathetic girl company for a hundred thousand yen an hour."

His eyes narrowed, irritated by his overflowing awareness to that piece of information and the proud smirk on his face. "Do you even have a teaching license?"

"No," he scoffed.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Ichigo asked lowly.

Nagata's eyebrows knitted together. "I need money," he repeated roughly. "Don't you listen?"

"This is illegal!"

"Guess what? Don't care." He started bouncing back his chair, fully enjoying himself. "It's not like anyone'll notice. I've got connections in low places."

"High places," Ichigo corrected.

"Oh no," Nagata started smartly, "this person is below me. It's low places. I think you've met her already—Sugahara Yurie. I heard she transferred into your class—flamboyant and annoying."

Ichigo didn't have to think very hard before the image of a pink-haired teen appeared in his mind.

Sugahara Yuri caused quite a bit of a stir within the class. Most teachers immediately pegged her for a troublemaker considering the dyed hair and she didn't redeem herself talking throughout every period nonstop. By the end of the day, she singlehandedly convinced the entire class to exchange numbers with her, including him and that had been no easy feat. She had to talk Homura into changing seats with her so she could pass notes and practically coerce him into giving it to her.

"What 'bout her?"

"She's a magician."

"No," Ichigo said firmly, folding his arms over his chest. There was a limit to the bull he could stand without losing his cool, and at that moment, he felt his patience quickly deteriorating. "Wakatsuki's going on about ancient magicians—" He paused, eyeing him suspiciously. "We know you killed Ogata."

"So?" said Nagata with a quizzical brow. "You can't prove I did or didn't kill him, now can you? And stop giving me that stupid look. If shinigami exist, magicians probably do, too. What world do you think we're living in? Nothing's normal here, that's for sure."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You did it."

Nagata pushed back his hair, eyebrows furrowed. "If you're here to get me fired, go away," he growled. "There are only so many jobs a dead guy can do."

Somehow, teaching wouldn't have come to mind.

"Stop playing games with me!" He nearly grabbed him by the collar. If there hadn't been other teachers in the room, he might have done it, but held down his composure.

"Why're you getting angry at me for? You can see dead people thanks to me. You should be kissing the ground I walk on, you ingrate." Nagata merely twisted his chair around to face his desk, waving a hand in dismissal. "Now, piss off."

Ichigo's hand fisted. Nagata's dismissal merely fueled the pent up anger. There were so many things he didn't understand that were happening with him and Haruka at the center, but he wasn't sure what to do. He could only stand by and watch as things unfolded, but the mere thought didn't sit right with him. He couldn't let things happen. Haruka didn't do anything wrong and she didn't deserve being in the middle of everything.

"I know you killed him," Ichigo stated through gritted teeth, "and you're not getting away with it."

Nagata was huddled over a sheet of paper, scribbling away. He shuddered. "Ooooh, so scary, Kurosaki-_kun_," he said mockingly. "I'll make sure to keep my guard up around you; I don't want you to magically come at me with that kitchen knife of yours."

Ichigo scoffed and stormed out of the faculty office without feeding anymore of that asshole's mockery.

Haruka, who had peacefully been waiting for him outside, jolted as he let the sliding door slam hard into the wall and rushed after, struggling to keep up to his furious stride.

She was almost out breath when he stopped abruptly, trying hard to contain his anger with his arms folded behind his head. She quietly stepped out of his path and watched over him.

His eyes flashed to her and she instinctively backed away.

"There's something he isn't telling us."

Haruka's eyebrows twitched upward. "So is everyone else," she said quietly, drawing his attention like a flash of lightning. "Everyone has secrets and they're trying very hard to keep them."

"Who are we supposed to trust?" he inadvertently yelled, startling her. He warily backed away, and turned his face to avoid looking at the wide-eyed stunned expression on her face. "Sorry Wakatsuki."

Haruka stepped forward and with her index finger poked his chest lightly. She kept her gaze firm as he met it. "You."

Her hand dropped back to her side and a small smile curved her lips. "Just you is fine."

"Thanks," Ichigo murmured, feeling the heat rising to his face, and quickly starting down the hall.

She stayed in place quietly before turning around and facing the opposite direction. There was definitely something wrong.

She could almost taste it.

* * *

Haruka drew long, winding shapes inside her sketchbook with a quick hand while Ichigo focused on completing his physics homework. Though, the orange-haired teen couldn't concentrate, too concerned by the fact that Haruka had her back to his shoulder and they were sitting inside his bedroom, door closed, alone.

Halfway to the Wakatsuki house, Ueda called Ichigo and asked him to distract Haruka while they settled some plumbing issues. Apparently, someone had been brought in to fix a leak and that _professional_ made a tiny problem into something incredibly huge. Ichigo couldn't really think of a distraction and when he asked Haruka if she wanted to go anywhere, she simply shook her head. He ended up taking her to his house and was almost thankful his dad took care of introducing her to both his sisters.

It was awkwardly silent, save the occasional exchange between the shinigami standing outside the clinic keeping a close eye on Haruka. He glanced over his shoulder; to the crown of her head where threads of golden hair melded with strands a sepia tone, and craned his neck further to see the zigzagging lines in her sketchbook slowly creating a new shape.

"Don't you have Nagata's test to study for?"

"No."

"You that confident?" he asked in disbelief.

"No," she answered lightly. "I just don't take him seriously anymore."

"…What?"

"I saw him die and he's dead. He doesn't exist." She answered curtly and simply.

"Any homework?"

"I don't wanna do it."

"You have to."

"No, I don't."

Ichigo let his pen drop onto his lap and he folded his arms over his chest. "So you plan to sit there drawing all day?"

"Yes."

Haruka sounded like she would be a horrible influence in the long run, as if his grades could suffer anymore.

"Sure?"

"Yep!" she affirmed with a small nod.

He shrugged his shoulders, picked up his pen, and continued working with the weight of her body pressed against his arm.

. . . .

Haruka stumbled onto her feet, leaving her sketchbook and pencil on his bed, excusing herself to use the bathroom. She stopped in front of the door abruptly, reaching for the doorknob when she felt a wave of energy chill her bones.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she turned the knob and opened the door wide, but didn't move another inch.

"Something wrong?" called Ichigo from his seat.

"Yeah," she said quietly, eyes taking in the full sight of Ichigo's dad and younger sister on the ground with their ears pressed against the door. They weren't moving. It was as if they were frozen. "Your dad and sister aren't moving."

Ichigo bolted out of his seat and rushed to her side, eyes wide as he took in the sight of his father and sister eavesdropping by the door, but not moving normally as they should. "What the hell is this?" he seethed before rushing out. "Karin!"

Haruka peered into the hallway to see the raven-haired girl in question frozen while heading up the staircase. "Hmm?" she hummed, stepping out behind Ichigo to catch his attention by waving her arms over her head frantically. "Kurosaki-san, I think I might be dreaming."

He jerked around to face the thin brunette, who had taken to run back and forth between the end of the hallway and the start of the staircase. "Wakatsuki, we have to focus!"

"Kurosaki! I bet I could fly too!"

"Wakatsuki—uff!"

Ichigo didn't have enough time to finish his sentence and scarcely managed to catch Haruka when she jumped from the top of the stairs believing she was dreaming and that anything was possible. He stumbled backward and hit the ground hard with the smaller teen in his arms, who smiled broadly in response.

"This must be one of those dreams," she said quickly, scrambling out of his arms and rushing down the final flight of stairs.

"Damnit Wakatsuki!" growled Ichigo, following her suit with an air of annoyance.

He expected her to bolt straight out the door. Deluded with her fantasy world, Haruka was capable of doing anything, but he didn't need to run far. She was standing a few feet from the doorway, but she wasn't alone.

Sugihara Yurie leaned against the door with a wry smile and an eerie air about her presence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Ichigo, feeling a pressure in his chest.

"Sorry 'bout intruding, Kurosaki-kun," chimed the pink-haired girl as she slinked closer to Haruka, staring at her firmly. "I jus' wanted to meet Wakatsuki Haruka so badly; I jus' couldn't wait until Death introduced us."

Haruka took a step backward. "Did you…?"

Sugihara glanced around. "Freeze everyone within a mile? Yes. I can't very well have a private conversation with anyone close enough to interrupt."

Ichigo cautiously slipped between both girls, staring down Sugihara, wary of the tightening pressure in his chest. It was as if something was threatening to crush his insides. "What do you want with Wakatsuki?"

The intruder smiled widely, a welcoming gesture. "I just wanted to meet her. Nobody 'round our place gets to ask too many questions."

"What for?"

"Heh…I wonder."

Sugihara was still eyeing Haruka; she hadn't once taken her eyes from the girl since the moment she laid them on her. She was almost starstruck, mystified by her mere presence. There was a light of merriment present, growing with every passing minute.

Then, the thickening atmosphere lost its intensity.

"Get out," ordered Ichigo firmly, "and unfreeze my family."

Sugihara pouted, glancing upward to him. "You really aren't any fun," she said with a frown. She waved her hand, almost dismissively. "Everything'll be back to normal in no time, so you can relax. I aint here to hurt either of you, as I said, I wanted to meet Wakatsuki-san, but she doesn't seem to wanna meet me."

"Get out," Ichigo repeated harshly.

The pink-haired girl raised her hands defensively, taking a few backward steps. "You should probably head back upstairs."

Ichigo felt the pressure doubled over, threatening to crush him under an unknown weight, when Haruka pushed past her, stretching her arm out before her and flicked of her hand, Sugihara's eyes widened.

The pink-haired girl's back crashed straight through the door and her body collided hard over the gravel path. Sugihara strained to pick her body from the ground, eyes squinted and blurred out of focus.

Haruka reached backward, fisting her hand before Ichigo and twisting it hard until crisscrossing chains were visible to his bewildered eyes. She yanked at them, seemingly effortless, and Ichigo felt a jab of pain in his chest as they rattled to the ground. She tossed them out the broken doorway, letting them clatter noisily at the intruder's feet. "Take your filthy dark magic."

"W-what?" cried Sugihara audibly.

Ichigo's eyes had widened as large as saucers, heart racing in trepidation, expression contorting into one of complete disenchantment. He was shocked, unable to wrap his mind around the occurrences of that evening. "W-Wakatsuki? What?"

Without answering either, she waved her hand diagonally and the door, splinter by splinter, restored itself.

His ears popped and somehow, the weight on him lifted.

Karin, his dark-haired sister, stepped into the room, noticing both him and shortly after, Haruka, with a snaking suspicion. "Did something happen?"

He could hear the shinigami outdoors asking themselves the same question, and knew Sugihara Yurie disappeared before everything within a one-mile radius unfroze. So, he turned to his sister, a dismissive smile on his face. "Wakatsuki wanted something to drink."

Karin shrugged her shoulders, eyes wandering off. "Help yourself, Wakatsuki-san."

Haruka smiled lightly. "Thank you."

In no time, Isshin and Yuzu came rushing down the stairs, both as bewildered as can be since they had been eavesdropping into the conversation when suddenly Ichigo and Haruka appeared downstairs.

"Are you hungry, Wakatsuki-san?" called Yuzu politely. "I can make you lunch."

Isshin stopped at Ichigo's side as Yuzu ushered Haruka into the kitchen with a list of dishes she could whip up in mere minutes.

"How long were you two eavesdropping, eh?" murmured Ichigo with a deep scowl, regarding his father.

"What?" cried Isshin dramatically. "I would never eavesdrop on you and a girl!"

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah right."

Isshin didn't ask questions, though Ichigo was sure he was about to be bombarded by them.

* * *

Haruka felt her stomach plummet and spin into tight knots after slipping into her bedroom with Ichigo in tow. She easily avoided confrontation with Ichigo at the Kurosaki Clinic, as she expected the inquires would require more patience she was incapable of providing, and spent the rest of the afternoon joint at the hip with Yuzu, who was taught her how to make omelet. Ichigo lingered downstairs, exchanging a few casual words with Karin as Isshin kept a close eye on both of them before Ueda called to say it was safe for Haruka to return home.

The door clasped quietly behind Ichigo and she picked up the PSP from her nightstand, dropping over her bed after flipping the switch. The screen blinked on to a set of colorful characters. She had been in the middle of a mission before shutting it off yesterday night, too nervous to sleep with school on her mind.

"What the hell was that?"

Ichigo was standing beside the bed, brown orbs narrowed in curio and a mismatched blend of bewilderment. His long shadow fell across her torso as her eyebrows knitted in deep concentration, fingers jabbing at the controls of her handheld.

"What was what?" she asked dismissively.

"Y-you—" It infuriated him; "you have powers!"

"Ahh," she said wondrously, eyes reflecting the contents of her screen, "that, you mean." She clicked her tongue in displeasure. She was an inch from death and was running around in search for a healing gem, but there seemed to be more disfigured monsters slithering toward her. "You have powers, too."

"No I don't," he hissed. "I don't have any powers and if I did—"

"—you'd tell me?" she finished inquisitively, arching an eyebrow. "No, you wouldn't."

"You don't know that!" he argued.

"I might be slow, but not stupid," she murmured dismissively. "Ahh…I died." She paused while restarting the level. "You have powers, I have powers—toma_to,_ to_ma_to."

"I don't have any powers!"

"Nagata gave you _Sight_," she said nonchalantly.

"You don't know that," he repeated defensively.

Haruka tossed her PSP behind her, the Game Over screen blinking, as she got into a seat and crossed her legs in front of her. She patted the seat beside her. "I'll tell you a secret if you help me with Death's Requiem."

Ichigo blinked. "Your painting?"

She nodded slightly. "Don't worry," she said quietly, placing both hands over her knees. She lifted her gaze toward him. "If I tell you the secret, can I trust you'll never tell?"

Somehow, everything that happened was starting to make sense—Watanabe Kouyou and Nagata Taishi capturing them both to extend her life and simultaneously call her a monster. Nagata giving him what Haruka called, "Sight," which basically meant having an old ability that once came second nature to him. There was more confusion building, like the world was spinning much faster and it was throwing off the equilibrium. He felt that atmosphere between them change and he was eager to understand, fed up with the thousand questions swimming in his head with no one willing to answer.

"Yes," he said, and he meant it.

Haruka's eyes narrowed and her voice lowered, "Do you swear it?"

"Yes, already, so jus' spit it out!"

Impatient.

"Everyone wants to keep me alive for one reason," she started ominously. "That sole reason is the motivation of a third party that hopes for my death." A hesitant pause followed. "I am the one they are looking for. The one that needs to be saved or destroyed, I stand in the center. And I can help you."

"Help me?" he said audibly, perplexed.

She looked at him firmly. "I can give you power that can grow and fester so long as you desire the world of which you have received it," she uttered seriously, and then, she just couldn't help herself. "I am a magician, too, with magical powers that grant magical miracles in this magical world."

…

"You are…bullshitting me…aren't you?" Ichigo deadpanned, but that was when he noticed it.

Something strange.

_What the hell's going on?_

Haruka's stomach made its presence known and she smiled sheepishly. She slid off the bed wordlessly, patting her stomach on the way toward the door. She stopped after opening, turning around to face him. "Did you know magicians can create illusions? Maybe not as great as Aizen, but this one is certainly going well."

Ichigo's eyes widened and for a split second, Haruka's image flickered in his vision—form twisting into the familiar Sugihara Yurie—and he was instantly alert. "Where's Wakatsuki?"

The fake smiled widely. "Where? Hmm…I wonder."

* * *

**_Thanks to_**_: Juliedoo, Shadow of a Broken Angel, and Aries01XD for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Terribly sorry about the lengthy wait. I'm very peculiar about chapters for Thirteen so I don't write it unless I can write it. That will explain the waits you may have to endure before a new chapter, but I've got the next three chapters covered, so it shouldn't be that horrible a wait.

So, onto the chapter, there is so much crap being thrown around that I wouldn't recommend trusting. Ichigo and Haruka are being thrust into some untold chaos and are going to probably have to get through it on their own, as there's no telling anyone will be willing to help. And so, reading this and the chapters that follow, you'll find yourself very confused (hopefully not to any extremes), but trust that I will clear everything.

Sugahara Yurie set the stage for the following chapters (hopefully 2-3 because then, you'll probably see what Ichigo's job in everything will be and who are the people that are actually involved). Get ready for a few revelations, but nothing too big, okay.

Again, excuse the wait, and thank you for reading.


	8. Burn the Witch

**Chapter Seven, **"Burn the Witch"

* * *

Ichigo's teeth gritted, anger rising as he looked Sugihara straight in the eyes. "Where's Wakatsuki?"

"She's safely tucked away in a different room," she answered knowingly, grinning from ear to ear.

The orange haired teen huffed as he searched his surroundings for any signs of an exit or a door, but couldn't see beyond a stream of white mist filtering into the gargantuan room from the strip of air vents. It also smelled strongly of lavender. The atmosphere was oddly thick and heavy.

It was a familiar weight. He remembered feeling it earlier when he and Haruka were still in his house. It caused a strain in his body, something deep down inside ached. It felt like his insides were grabbed and twisted into knots.

He pressed his hand to his stomach, applying pressure to ease the slight waves of pain.

"Sorry 'bout the pressure," the pink-haired girl said understandingly. "It's a bit hard to control inside this dimension."

He blinked perplexed. _Dimension? _"What's going on?" he said, before repeating an earlier statement. "And where's Wakatsuki?"

Sugihara twisted her pink-tinted lips into a pout. "Come on! I just finished telling you she's in some other room!" she cried, irritated. "Stop worrying about her. You should be worrying 'bout yourself! Death already said to treat her like the Dalai Lama! I'm not stupid enough to go against him!"

_Nagata's behind this, _he thought as his eyes narrowed in displeasure, _I should have known. _It took little effort to figure out what was going to happen from then onward.

"What the hell does Nagata want with me?" he asked seriously.

"Well," trailed off the girl ominously, capturing his attention, eyes circling above her head as she placed her hands on her hips, "he didn't tell me."

_Eh?_ His face twisted into one of disappointment. "_What?_"

Sugihara frowned deeply. "What do you expect? You know Death! He never lets anyone know what's he's doing! He just gives you vague, unorthodox orders and expects you to be smart enough to figure out the rest without providing sufficient clues. And you know what? He does this on purpose because it's his sole mission in life to watch everyone else fuck up!"

Memory served Kurosaki Ichigo correctly as he recalled the day he and Chad set foot into a teenage Nagata Taishi's territory where they experienced every word of which Sugihara spoke. Nagata never told them they were in his territory. None of his wannabe followers did either. Nobody was really aware where his territory started and where it ended. When the red haired tyrant took a step in front of them wagging around a metal bat with that horribly proud smirk on his face, he asked them how their day was going.

The ambience wasn't a friendly one, so neither he nor Chad answered, not that they would have the chance because within the next second one of his groupie's had snapped and told them to go away. Nagata Taishi then proceeded to swing his bat, nailing the guy straight in the nose, at a speed normal people wouldn't have believed he had been the one to swing it.

There was a brief, seemingly endless silence before Nagata straightened out, leaned the bloodied bat over his shoulder, and said, "Well, guys, it's been a pleasure, but I already have dinner plans with these guys."

It so happened that his so-called lackeys were actually members of a top-notch gang around South Karakura that had been itching to beat Nagata Taishi to a bloody pulp, but failed miserably. The next morning Ichigo heard all about the gang's demise through vivacious gossip and knew, even for him, Nagata wasn't one to mess with. It was probably instinct.

Ichigo watched as Sugihara Yurie huffed audibly, pacing in a full circle as a stretch of mist began to gather at their ankles.

"Okay," she said after a moment of terse silence. "I brought you into this dimension and am supposed to either watch/beat/kill you."

His eyebrows rose, no longer taking the situation as seriously as he should have. "In that order?"

"Perhaps."

_This isn't getting anywhere._

"Hey, can I have Haruka back?" he asked tiredly, folding his arms over his chest. "She has a meeting with some gallery director or something and it's supposed to be really important. Ueda-san would kill me if she knew she missed it because of me."

Sugihara looked surprised. "Eh? Did she win a contest?"

"No."

"Isn't she like twelve, what does an art director want with her?"

"Gallery director," he corrected stoutly, frown deepening.

"Whatever!"

"She's not twelve either."

"Thirteen, fourteen—who cares!" she snapped. "Anyway, I need to figure out what to do with you."

Ichigo whirled around and started walking in the opposite direction without another word, with a disinterested shrug of his shoulders.

"Where do you think you're going?" cried Sugihara noisily, hands fisted at her sides.

The orange-haired teen disappeared in the mist without another word, further upsetting the short girl.

"Kurosaki!"

. . . .

"…So, I only need to stay here and talk to you?"

Haruka was sitting in a neatly set table within a gargantuan room with checkered marble floors and the wafting smells of different flavored teas. Across her was a bright, pink-haired girl wearing the Karakura High uniform with a few modifications (pink knee-high socks and a pink ribbon instead of red).

The unfamiliar girl, who presented herself as Sugihara Yurie, had finished explaining her actions without revealing much of anything, except the confirmation of her safety.

"Yep!"

Sugihara poured her red-colored tea and gracefully placed the teacup in front of her guest.

"What if I don't want to talk to you…?" Haruka asked carefully, eyeing the stranger suspiciously.

The cup nearly fell from Sugihara's hand as the words sunk in.

"W-well," she cleared her throat, "you really have no choice."

Haruka blinked. "Are you like Nagata Taishi?"

"I'm not an asshole like him, if that's what you mean," stated Sugihara defensively.

"It's not," replied Haruka slightly, taking the teacup in both hands. "Are you a part of the Arcana, too?"

Sugihara perked up. "Yup, that's right. I'm surprised you know about the Arcana at all."

Haruka returned the cup back to its place and stood abruptly, turning away from the pink-haired girl. "Ah, okay."

"Hey!" cried Sugihara, bolting out of her seat. "Where do you think you're going?"

Watching the back of Wakatsuki Haruka's retreating form, she realized the girl had no intention of answering.

"You can't get out unless Kurosaki does, you know?"

Haruka slipped into the darkening mist of the never-ending room. She figured if she walked long and far enough, there would eventually be a way out. So, she needed to be incredibly patient.

_Inhale—one…two…three—and exhale. _

Her retreating footsteps echoed noisily overhead as her body disappeared within the graying miasma. She took in her surroundings, vast and empty. Shadows formed beyond the mist, creating varying shapes in a curtain of gray. Large, looming figures towered over her as she passed and she followed them with curious eyes. Long limbs waved as she smiled graciously.

Familiarity struck.

Haruka heard the sound of heals clicking ahead of her, drawing her attention away from the flimsy shadows. A zephyr swirled the mist to clear and a flash of color flooded her eyes like vibrant neon lights.

A slender figure appeared with a curtain of bone-white hair fluttering behind her back, but disappeared as Haruka struggled to make out any more of the person in a wisp of dark smoke.

Sugihara flickered into sight, eyes narrowed in concentration, and she stood in place, witnessing something incredible.

Ashen mist tumbled from the high ceilings like raging waves, taking with them the shadows and all trace of color before, all together, they smashed straight into the checkered floors, consuming the wandering girl.

Chocolate colored eyes widened, concentration broken. "T-this can't be!"

* * *

"Sugihara is failing miserably, as expected."

Nagata held a hand over his eyes to shade them from the heavy sunlight. He stood on the rooftop of Karakura High once the campus was scarce save the few students finishing up with their extracurricular activities and sports (that counted as the former, though not in his book). The sky had already turned a musky orange and the clouds were multicolored and fluffy. The temperature out increased enough to cause some discomfort, but not enough to faze him.

Watanabe Kouyou emerged from a strip of shade behind him, hands clasped behind his back. "The others have already made their move."

Death smirked wickedly. "Yes, but I can count on you being one step ahead after having stolen the Hermit's ability."

"Our Hermit does not need his abilities when trapped in a dimension of his making."

"O'course." Nagata peered over the ledge as four senior students emerged from the main building. They were two girls and two boys, all four close acquaintances of Kurosaki Ichigo, carriers of extraordinary talent. If harvested, great things could be expected, even though one of the females was a hidden soul, but he wasn't looking at her. His attention was drawn by a particular male student. "That's him."

Kouyou spared the young boy a meager glance. "Are you certain?"

"He's got about a week left of life in him," remarked Death easily. "Same as Haruka. The testy little bastard is planning a diversion."

"Yes, but our concern is Kurosaki Ichigo."

"He really doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Hiko should've hired someone better than an ex-shinigami loser without any powers."

"He's got spark," Kouyou defended with a rueful smile.

Nagata snorted. "He certainly has the right receptors, but it won't get him very far…well, not until I get through with him."

The wise grin did not vanish from the Hierophant's face. "I do find your ploys a tad unconventional, but they are wonderfully strategized. I am eager to hear the results of your current game."

"Ah-ha, an' here I thought I'd never get your approval."

"You seem to have grown on me."

Nagata leaned forward as he watched the four students separate at the school gates, all venturing down the direction of their respective homes. His eyes followed the brunette with the messy hair and the idiotic personality, Asano Keigo. He was a difficult decision to stomach and he almost couldn't believe the things he had planned in the near future, but he had one cardinal rule: Death takes no orders, especially from lesser beings. That kid was going to be a problem.

The Arcana's wannabe leader was in no position to tell him what to do, though he had and that itself came with consequences. Death's revolt should have been expected. He was prepared to give him fireworks.

"Are you truly willing to sacrifice our Magician?"

"Oh yes," he said confidently. "He'll serve a better purpose dead."

"You do understand this will weaken us."

Nagata shot Kouyou a sharp glance. "Do you every stop being so pessimistic? Stop questioning me."

"Then you have figured out a way to preserve the Magician's ability?"

The surprise was evident in the Hierophant's expression to some lesser degree as Nagata smirked proudly affirming the older man's darkest thoughts, though the mere mention was impossible.

The Magician represented the power of the Arcana. With Sugihara Yō's awakening, everyone's dormant power reawakened like the violent stirrings of a volcano in the midst of eruption. It represented the moment in which plans were set in motion and sides were taken. The shinigami had been alerted by the surge of energy filling the world around them as the sky began to turn a darker shade. In fact, anyone with even a sliver of spiritual inclination felt the flood of energy shake and fill them with newfound dread.

It was doomsday. They only had no awareness.

That was the Arcana's strongest point.

Death straightened out with a crude smile and looked over his shoulder. "Let's go."

The Hierophant inclined his head and in a wisp of dark smoke, they disappeared.

* * *

_Beyond this floor lies a door._

Haruka's gaze wandered, taking in the colorful setting. Vibrantly painted walls of flourishing grass and yellow buds paved the single road beyond the large hall. As she came to a halt before gargantuan twin doors, the words above in gold cursive tugged at an unknown emotion at the pit of her stomach.

She twisted her body slightly, looking into the vast darkness she left behind, and then turned back to the large door. She took the silver handle and turned, simultaneously pushing open the heavy door with every ounce of strength in her body. She stumbled in as the force keeping the entrance tightly sealed lessened and a brush of cold air fluttered her hair all about her face.

Hopping to keep her balance while flailing her arms, Haruka let out a yelp when she crashed into the cold, white marble floor. Her mobile phone flew out of her sweater's pocket and landed with a nosy clatter, skiing across the glossed over ground until it disappeared underneath a gargantuan canopy situated in the center of the room.

Haruka scrambled onto her knees, rushing forward in search of her phone. Her emotions were threading toward anxious as she hurriedly poked her head under the bed to see a number of boxes and stacks of art journals messily discarded.

She had been walking for what felt like hours before she came across the first room in the entire building. She had walked up stairways and zigzagging hallways with wall sconces and candles lighting the area. It was an endless labyrinth that brought along with it an ominous familiarity.

The glint of her phone reflecting off the gargantuan windows decorating the exterior wall caught her eye. She slipped further inside, arm out stretched when her lower backside hit the metal frame of the canopy, forcing her to a halt.

She growled in frustration as she strained to reach her phone, it sitting by the tips of her fingers and only managed to push it back bit by bit until she couldn't even touch it.

Stupid mistake.

The mobile phone started buzzing and moved further away until it hit one of the large boxes and lodged itself there, but it was already out of reach.

Haruka crawled backward out from underneath the bed and searched her surroundings for something handy to pull her phone from under it. A broom would have come in handy.

Kurosaki should have a broom…

Haruka stood in the middle of the room staring at the wall absently as a thought slowly formed in her mind.

"Sugihara," she grumbled in displeasure, folding her arms over her chest. "How do I find Sugihara? She could probably make one appear…"

She had given the room a fleeting look upon entering, but now, she looked at it straightly. Blinking, she took in the sight of skies that expanded up to the high ceilings where clouds formed around a circumference of violet markings resembling intricate runes.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The door suddenly slammed into the wall and a voice came booming from the entrance. "I finally found you!"

Haruka turned to face Ichigo, slightly disheveled and cover in sweat, struggling for breath.

There was an air of indifference about her that pissed Ichigo off. She was almost looking at him like he did something stupid by catching up with her, which obviously meant this was the real Haruka and not Sugihara playing tricks on him.

"You forgot the broom," she said, irritated.

"What broom?" he cried, exasperated. "Ugh, forget it, let's get out of here."

Haruka turned to face him fully, eyes narrowing in scrutiny, and with an easiness of tone said, "I dropped my phone."

"Forget about it!" he stated. "We need to leave before that creep Sugihara shows up."

"But I dropped my phone," she said firmly. "Get it for me."

Ichigo realized quickly that getting the girl to budge would be a losing battle and with a roll of the eyes and an audible huff, he stepped forward. "Where'd you drop it?"

"…Under the bed."

"Then why can't you get it!" he shouted, peeved.

Haruka turned away with a haughty air. "I'm not telling you."

"Whatever," he said, silently fuming as he made his way toward the large canopy.

Between the two of them, Haruka was definitely smaller, petite, though she wasn't that much shorter than he was. So, he couldn't really see what the real problem was between her getting her phone back from underneath the bed, she could have definitely slipped inside without a problem, considering she was so slim.

_She's probably just being lazy. Figures._

Ichigo got down to his knees and peered under the bed to see that it was indeed Haruka's mobile underneath it. He shot a glance back to her as she was staring him down and then slipped inside, stretching out his arm to grab hold of the slim device.

He returned the phone to Haruka, who quickly opened it to check the new messages flooding for inbox.

One after another, she read Arashi's name over and over. The messages written were nothing but nonsense, things that weren't necessarily interesting to her. She usually ignored her twin's text because he never had anything good to say to her. It helped her figure out her flaws and aim to fix them, but sometimes, she preferred not to make an argument. She knew Arashi had her best interests in mind, but that didn't mean she didn't find him annoying from time to time.

"Hey," started Ichigo, staring at her suspiciously, grabbing her attention, "when did you get a new phone?"

"Oh." She blinked. "Dad bought it for me temporarily the other day. I already have you on speed dial, so it's okay."

"How do you even have my number?"

"Ueda-san."

Ichigo confusion multiplied with each crisp response.

"Ueda-san?"

"Ueda-san knows everything," she said with an affirming nod.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Everything?"

"Even one's most intimate measurements."

"What? How can—?"

The thought of it seemed to have upset Ichigo. Haruka couldn't really see why.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm speed-dialing my dad."

She had just pressed the phone to her ear when the mobile was swiped out of her hand and thrown across the room. It hit the wall hard, smashing into pieces. Standing a few feet from the two teenagers was none other than her newly appointed homeroom teacher, still dressed in his flashy excuse of a suit and fake glasses.

"Nagata!" growled Ichigo defensively.

Nagata whirled around to face Haruka. "What the hell's your problem?" he berated. "Don't just run to your daddy when you can't get out of a problem!"

Haruka frowned childishly. "I can do whatever I want."

"Shut up! And Kurosaki, look somewhere else before I decide to punch you." Nagata huffed. "Seriously, I went through all the trouble of setting up a Wonderland for you to enjoy and you both are standing in a room doing nothing."

"What the hell do you want?"

Nagata rolled his eyes in frustration. "Honestly, teenagers, you're all lazy," he grumbled beneath his breath. He shook his head in disappointment and paced around the room once before taking a seat at the foot of the canopy. He stared straight at Ichigo, almost ignoring Haruka's presence completely. "Sugihara is an illusionist. She created a dimension inside a house that's full of traps and monsters and abnormal games."

"…I don't like any of those things," Haruka deadpanned.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes. "I'm making eye contact with Carrot Top here," he said, gesticulating, "you, stay out of it."

"…I don't really like you either."

"Shut up or I'll kill you," he threatened, serious.

"Do it."

Her face hardened as she challenged the ominous man.

Ichigo stepped in between the two before a childish challenge turned into a blood bath and brought the conversation back to where it started. "What are you trying to do?"

"I said it before, didn't I? You treat that little treasure behind you like the Dalai Lama."

Haruka took a deep breath, trying hard to concentrate as the tightening in her stomach continued. It was almost turning into pain.

"Yeah, so?"

"You think a loser like you can handle the responsibility without powers?"

Ichigo's expression grew serious.

Nagata smirked proudly. "Hits a nerve, don't it?"

"Get on with it," snapped Ichigo, hands balling into fists.

The blond leaned backward into the bed as he slowly elaborated. "I can grant you a death in which you will have the opportunity to reclaim your lost shinigami powers, though I can't guarantee your survival or the passing of any trials." He waved an indifferent hand before reaching into his pocket for a silver cigarette case. "Of course, you have some special circumstances, and I am willing to offer you secondary options."

"What's the second option?"

"You become one of us."

"One of you?" Ichigo said skeptically.

"A member of the Arcana," confirmed Nagata, and then proceeded to wave off the idea. "Then again, it's not certain. You don't meet the criteria, you weren't chosen for the job, as you aren't displaying symptoms prior to awakening. There really is no guarantee you'll survive this either, actually. Nobody has."

Haruka realized, with every passing minute, that Nagata looked almost too relaxed. She had a chilling feeling trailing up her spine as she watched the two men stare each other down.

Ichigo was definitely torn between the idea of receiving his powers back. He wanted to ask the different between the two options, but figured it might be some sort of elaborate ploy Nagata had.

"Both are pretty promising routes. I would recommend the Arcana, but I wouldn't want to sway your judgment. You might need all the shinigami power you can get if you hope to get rid of us eventually." There was more, Nagata smiled sinisterly as he proceeded, "If bad comes to worse, you might have to become much stronger than you did when you fought four-eyes. That in itself seems like an impossible feat, probably is, beats me."

The thought upset him. He couldn't be sure whether Nagata was lying or not and it was slowly wearing at his nerves. He didn't know whether to choose or not, but just as the thought flitted across his mind, Nagata raised his finger.

"There is always option three."

"What is it?"

Nagata extended his arm so he pointed directly at Haruka. "You turn her into Soul Society. Tell Yamamoto Genryūsai that she is the one they want. Watch her get executed publically by all your friends and comrades," he said easily, as though he were telling a fairytale, and clapped his hands together after setting his cigarette case on his lap, "and then everyone lives happily ever after. No problems until the next two-to-five hundred years when we decided to come again. 'Course, you'll be dead by then and it'll be someone else's problem. But wouldn't it be wonderful to live in peace? No Hollow, no supernatural mumbo-jumbo, no enemies, no nothing—tranquility, world peace—you create Heaven on Earth."

The knots in Haruka's stomach tightened until it started to hurt. If it meant that much to die, wouldn't option three be the best option? She would be the harbinger of peace. She would be doing something good for the world even if it meant facing a world beyond her acceptance.

_Is that why Arashi attempted against my life?_

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder, taking in the emotion registered on Haruka's face, and batted away the questions swarming his mind. He wasn't sure what to think. Haruka, if sacrificed, became the personification of peace as far as Nagata described, but what exactly did it all mean.

"What is she…?" asked Ichigo cautiously.

"The End," replied Nagata, taking a handmade cigarette from his case before shutting it and stuffing it back into his jacket pocket. "She represents the end of everything and the beginning of something new. If you want the real truth, she represents everything that binds the Arcana together. Us, Arcana don't have the best intentions in mind, of course. That's why people are wary. Everyone's going to come after us. Enemies will be willing to join forces to take us down, but once the Cycle is complete, it means the end of everything they knew. We are beings that aren't supposed to exist. Get it?"

Truthfully, Ichigo didn't truly understand, but it was an incredible burden that Nagata was offering him and he was certain he knew what he wanted.

Haruka unconsciously grabbed onto Ichigo's arm, moving forward, but keeping herself out of Nagata's view. She felt something threatening to split her apart and a well of emotion burning underneath all her senses. She was reacting to everything the man was saying, though it sounded like nonsense and she refused to believe the words of a dead man. She simply knew better than to acknowledge a zombie (unless it was hungry for brains, then she'd have to shoot it).

For the first time, she was listening and processing the ideas properly. Nagata once insulted the people protecting her, but had he been right about them trying for her life considering its value? And if it really could grant peace, why didn't she know about it?

There was a long, unnecessary silence between the trio.

Haruka felt her eyes water. She let that idiot Nagata make her think enough to cry.

"None."

Nagata looked pleasantly surprised as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips with a light he conjured with a snap of his finger. He leaned into the tiny red flame flickering over the tip of his index finger, letting the tip burn before extinguishing it.

"Ah?"

"I don't need any powers to protect Wakatsuki," continued Ichigo assuredly, trusting there would always be a way to accomplish it without having to resort to relying on Nagata. "And I don't care how valuable her death is, I'm not going to put her life at risk."

Nagata took a drag of his cigarette and let out plumes of white smoke that slithered through the air, filling the room with a strange musky smell. It was only a matter of seconds before either teenager realized that whatever Nagata was smoking was no ordinary cigarette.

"Good answer," said Nagata, pinching the end of the cigarette and drawing it from his lips. "Great answer."

Haruka dropped her arms back to her sides and took a step forward to stand besides Ichigo, a new thought forming in her mind. She thought it best to leave certain ideals and details out of her head while they were still in the middle of unknown territory.

"What does Sugihara-san want with us then?" she asked quietly.

"Sugihara is working for Nagata," replied Ichigo.

"I didn't know you had lackeys, Nagata-sensei."

Death grinned arrogantly. "Kissing ass?"

She frowned disapprovingly.

"Leave her out of it," defended her self-appointed guard. "Why don't you spare us the guessing game and tell us what this is really about?"

Nagata pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, as he left his seat on the bed. "This is why I hate teenagers. You little bastards never listen to a word I say."

"…Not our fault you're so boring," grumbled Haruka, averting her eyes when a tyrannical glare blazed in her direction.

Nagata gathered his explosive anger and within seconds composed himself, continuing to smoke his questionable cigarette. "I said everything that needed to be said. It isn't my problem your ears are full of wax. Stupid brats."

After grumbling his final response, he vanished in a cloud of black smoke, taking with him the residue of his cigarette.

Ichigo growled impatiently, folding his arms over his chest. "Asshole."

Haruka stalked toward the windows and propped open a couple to have to rest of the awful smell out of the room. She would surely suffocate if she hadn't done anything about it. She took a deep breath of fresh air and looked beyond to the high walls that surrounded the home and tall grass flourishing with yellow wildflowers.

There were vibrant yellow flowers in her vision, swaying with every pass of cold wind, and within them sat a hidden path leading…

"Kurosaki," she called urgently, whirling around to face him. "We have to take the hidden path outside to get out of here."

Ichigo crossed the distance between them and listened to Haruka's curt explanation as she pointed out the pathway leading towards a tiny wooden door. He looked down, trying to measure how high up they were—five floors up, or more, he couldn't tell.

"Let's go."

She nodded firmly.

. . . .

It resembled an ancient castle built to imprison, decorated with vibrantly painted walls that struck various emotional attachments deep in a pool of feelings inside Haruka's heart. The wildflowers that surrounded the compound were currently stems in the cleared out room of the Wakatsuki manor, the shade of yellow was under serious debate, and she felt they had almost been perfect. Something was always missing from her paintings, something she found right in this unknown house.

Haruka took in the sights. In every change of scenery, she recognized art decorating the walls and matched it to one of the many of the portraits stowed away in the attic. There was something terrifyingly ominous of that day's transgression and it was only when it seemed that escape was possible, that she started to feel a sudden dread twist along her insides. She heard enough, seen something beyond her understanding, and was wondering whether it was really worth living.

Kurosaki Ichigo had been given the right opportunity to rid the world of her life, which meant the practical end of all evil. If she died, then and there, peace for the world was ensured for hundreds of years to come. If there truly was reason for Nagata to offer her life as the third option, a dark cloud must have been cast above their heads. Something told her there would be more in store than losing a single life.

The hallways were incredibly long, and as they ventured downward, the staircases grew larger until they reached a hollow room with a descending spiral staircase leading to a place shrouded in complete darkness.

They had been running around for what felt like hours. The trek took a heavy toll on Haruka's weak body. Her legs were shaking violently as she forced herself forward to follow Ichigo close behind. He had more stamina, the rush downstairs hadn't taken much of his strength, but she was breathing haggardly.

Ichigo turned around to face her. "You don't look okay."

Haruka took a step forward, ready to strike down his concern, when her leg numbed and she hit the ground hard. It was almost as if her legs had given up to her. They were starting a revolution against her. That was the second time she fell face first and she wasn't known to be clumsy, so it upset her.

"Ow."

Ichigo slipped both hands under her arms and managed to pick her up without much effort, but her feet were still incredibly weak.

"We'll stay here a bit so you can rest." He helped her to the nearest wall where she took a seat. "Sugihara is bound to show up since we stopped moving."

She wasn't sure what questions to ask as she carefully focused all her attention on deterring her mind from thinking her body was on the verge of malfunctioning. She never ran or walked for so long or felt such immense pressure encased in such a place. It weighed her down as if trying to break her apart, but there was something different about this room.

"The atmosphere is lighter here," she said quietly.

Ichigo nodded. "You noticed, too?"

"Yeah."

The orange-haired teen exhaled deeply and took a seat beside her, crossing his legs. He regarded her gently, taking in her blank expression and the slight heave of her chest. "Are you okay…?"

"You mean to ask if I'm not dying," she said straightly, unconcerned about the throbbing ache in her head. "I'll be fine. I just want to sleep and I think I missed my medicine."

"I thought you weren't taking it."

"Who said?"

"Ueda-san."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated lightly, contrasting the stern sound of his tone. She lowered her head and for the first time chuckled deprecatingly. "You really are different. More than I expected."

Ichigo's frown deepened. "Are you going to give me an answer?"

"Haven't you figured it out?" She shook her head in disbelief, but continued speaking. "It would have been easier to take the easy way out in this situation. If you went through with Nagata's third option, you could have truly been heroic."

She did not value her life.

"I'm not trying to be a hero," he stated, annoyed.

Haruka cast a fleeting glance to him. "Then, what are you trying to accomplish by protecting me?"

He remained silent for a long time, unable to find a reason for his actions. He was almost certain he was acting on instinct. Wakatsuki Haruka became his responsibility when her father hired him to watch over her for an hour, but then Nagata and Watanabe appeared and now Sugihara, all potentially endangering the life of a girl that seemed so fragile. He thought his job was going to be simple until he realized everyone was secreting behind his back and that Urahara and Yoruichi were somehow involved, and there were many of shinigami tailing Haruka. Not to mention, Hiko was a shinigami himself, so did that mean…Haruka also had the potential, too?

"I'm not afraid of dying," continued Haruka assuredly, breaking the silence.

"Are you stupid?" he said, aggravated, hands fisting.

"Yes."

"Don't answer so simply!"

Just then, the sound of something splashed onto the floor to the left of them and the heaviness that did not exist within that room returned—Sugihara found them.

Ichigo bolted out of his seat alert, eyes squinting to see through the sudden veil of darkness. The sconces on the wall had dimmed as the splashing continued. There was a vibration underneath his feet and a crackling sound at his ears. For a moment, it sounded like bones cracking into place and forming as dark blobs emerged from the floor, towering over him with golden eyes.

"Damnit, you guys are crafty!"

The pink-haired girl emerged from the spiraling staircase, looking exhausted. She pranced forward, gesturing with both hands to the shadows forming behind her and in one swoop they rushed forward hitting the ground where they dissolved into murky dark liquid.

Haruka got to her feet with little struggle as she watched the black ink-like substance pool at everyone's feet. She didn't want it touching her directly, though it still bothered her that her new shoes would be ruined, but she could always ask her father for new ones. She raised her foot an inch, the substance was sticky and bubbly—it turned her stomach.

"Stay behind me, Wakatsuki," ordered Ichigo.

"You don't need to worry about Wakatsuki, sheesh," stated Sugihara, annoyed, "Nagata would kill me if I tried against her life and anyways, it's you I'm after."

"What for?"

"To test you, of course," continued the transfer student. "It makes sense. Nagata would never consent to bringing anyone to this particular dimension if he didn't want their worth tested."

"Worth?"

Sugihara smiled widely, wagging her index finger. "I'll give you a full Arcana education, then," she said sternly, "so listen close. There are two ways to become a member of the Arcana. The first is automatically being chosen by fate (though this doesn't include the Arcana that function outside the cycle) and the second is becoming worthy of the title. Of course, there is only one way of determining it. You have to survive the trials given to you by the Magician, that's me, then gain the approval of the Hierophant, the blessing of the Priestess, and face Death." Sugihara pushed out her hip and placed her hand over it. "There is an easier method, but it's mostly called the impossible method."

"Why?"

"The leader of the Arcana, our Queen, is the only entity able to choose the holder of every card's fate. She guides the Wheel of Fortune." Sugihara frowned childishly. "But unfortunately, Death never lets her retainer die in any reincarnation. So, it's impossible to use her ability, I'm sure she'd like you on the team, considering your potential. So, it'd be a real shame if you died during my trials."

"I don't want to be one of you!" he said strongly.

Sugihara scoffed as the dark liquid shot up into the ceiling, forming several looming monsters. "As if you have a choice."

Ichigo's eyes widened as the monsters gathered and lurched forward, arms spiraling toward him with an edge sharp enough to pierce through skin. He moved swiftly, grabbing a hold of Haruka and rushed to the other end of the room as the blob of beasts crashed into the wall becoming dark liquid, shaking the foundation of the castle-like home.

"That's cheating!" cried Sugihara, waving her arms around in disagreement. With a frustrated huff, she straightened out, regaining a bit of her composure. "Well, whatever, I don't care, do what you want! I won't be responsible for the consequences."

"Shut up!" yelled Ichigo from across the room.

"You can't shut me up! Go! Go get him!"

The monsters reformed and rushed toward Ichigo.

"Tsk! Hold on, Wakatsuki!"

Haruka nodded wordlessly and secured her arms around his neck. She felt his quick movements and found them dizzying. As he skillfully avoided the dangerous blobs, charging into the maze-like hallways, she started seeing a variety of color before her eyes. Her mind started to fog.

She shut her eyes tightly, clinging to Ichigo, feeling undeniably restless. There was nothing she could do. She wasn't sure what was happening herself. All she knew was that they were running, and fast, as the corridors in their brightly painted colors blurred in her peripheral. Ghastly cries resonated behind them as the monsters kept up with Ichigo's pace.

She was feeling ill and considerably weaker than when she first arrived into this den of nightmares. Her weakness was slowing him down. He was forced to carry her around because he was concerned about her wellbeing when Sugihara made it clear she would not be harmed. Even so, he couldn't exactly trust anyone but himself at that moment.

Ichigo skidded to a sudden halt as he reached a dead end. He whirled around, eyes widening as the monsters came undone and rushed toward them as they backed into the wall in the form of a giant black wave. His back hit the wall hard. There wasn't any other way out of facing the darkness licking up the walls, threatening to engulf them.

As he watched the waves come closer, he saw shapes forming within the waves and just as his heart stilled and arms tightened around Haruka's frail body, they crashed straight into them. But as the waves pulsed through his body, overcoming them both, he felt his senses heighten and body shiver as the evil made its presence known. It turned his body cold; the temperatures inside him plummeted until he felt nothing but a numbness spreading.

The only tinge of warmth he felt was Haruka's frail body clinging to him tightly, but even it was fading quickly.

The splash of darkness clung to him until finally, the weight lifted and he knew he was able to breathe freely. He hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath until after the black waves were reduced to nothing but a shallow pool at his feet.

Footsteps approached the dead end as he opened his eyes and struggled to get back onto his feet.

"Wakatsuki," he strained, pushing himself off the wall. "Are you okay?"

Her grip loosened greatly and her body felt heavier. She did not say a word, staying perfectly still in his arms.

Ichigo dropped his gaze, footsteps drawing near. He carefully pulled back strands of her hair to see her eyes were closed serenely. There were traces of the dark liquid clotting in her hair.

His stomach twisted into knots of horror. With a slight shift of his body, Haruka fell limp.

"W-Wakatsuki…?"

There was a tremor in his voice. The fear of acknowledging what was so evident.

He took her face carefully, heart stilling, but her skin was as cold as ice. "Hey…W-Wakatsuki…?"

He couldn't stand. He felt his body sink back into a seat among a sea of darkness. He reached to her neck to check her pulse, but it was impossible to detect something that was no longer there.

The echoing steps came to a sudden halt and he raised his eyes to see Sugihara Yurie engulfed in a sphere giving off light. She frowned disappointedly at the sight before her.

"Sheesh," she complained noisily, rubbing the back of her head. "You're tougher than I thought. That should have put you out quickly."

"You," he started lowly, holding onto Haruka's body tightly, eyebrows furrowing.

Sugihara arched an eyebrow. "Why do you sound so mad?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to release his fury. His powerlessness fueled his anger. If he had powers, he could have easily protected Haruka, he could have prevented her from dying in the middle of nowhere—in some idiot's dimension. He felt useless, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try against Sugihara.

But, someone else spoke up before him.

"…You breached my contract," came the irritated voice of Nagata Taishi, who stood a few feet behind the Magician crushing his cigarette.

Sugihara whirled around, wide eyed. "W-what?" she stammered, taken aback. "How did you get in here? I-I—"

"You served your purpose, Sugihara Yu_rie_, and as delightful as our alliance may have been, you have just breached my contract and admitted into my shitlist," he began slowly, voice dripping with venom.

"W-what?" she cried frantically. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

Nagata tugged his tie loose and started folding the sleeves of his shirt. "Wakatsuki Haruka is dead."

Ichigo wouldn't budge. There was a monstrous source of energy pining him to the ground. He couldn't even find his voice to speak.

Sugihara jerked around to face both teenagers sitting pushed against the wall, but there was scarcely enough time for the moments that followed. The pink haired girl had time to react when Nagata shot forward and waved her hands towards her, creating a defensive wall that stretched to the high ceiling with the liquid lingering on the floor.

"Nagata!"

Ichigo saw the glint of silver as it materialized in Death's hands and watched as the weapon took the shape of a large scythe. Death swung vertically, slashing straight through the barrier and right across Sugihara's thin neck.

It was over in the blink of an eye.

Sugihara Yurie's head hit the floor with a light thud and the body followed shortly as blood splattered all across the carefully painted walls, forever staining them.

Nagata straightened out, casting a bothered glance at the scythe in his left hand. He tightened his grip and the weapon vanished in a wave of violent smoke. "So she believed in clichés to the bitter end. Fool."

Cold eyes met with Ichigo's astonished gaze.

"Get up."

It was another order.

Ichigo struggled onto his feet with the slight weight of Haruka's body as Nagata crossed the distance between them.

"Look at me," said Death, gesticulating with his fingers. "Straight on. With that exact face."

Ichigo's eyebrows were still knitted and his expression was molded into one of pure fury.

He did not expect to be punched as hard as he was, but that was Death's gift to him before he wordlessly grabbed a hold of Haruka and hoisted her over his shoulder. The teen hit the wall hard and slid down into a seat as something clattered onto the floor with him. He tasted the blood building up in his mouth and he turned his head to spit it out.

"Take Wakatsuki here," said Nagata monotonously, handing him a slip of paper. "I'll burn the witch."

Ichigo got back onto his feet and took Haruka from his arms, looking at the older man cautiously.

"The exit is down the staircase. Follow the dirt path in the flowers; you should be outside Karakura Town."

The teenager nodded and rushed, unable to calm his accelerating heart. His mind drew blanks. He could think of nothing more than listening to Nagata Taishi's exact words and taking Wakatsuki's dead body to the location on that paper. He didn't think about possibilities or the fact that he saw Death decapitate a girl without a cinch of hesitation. He could not consider his actions justified because Sugihara had been thrown into Death's game probably without her knowing the outcome.

As he descended the spiral staircase in the center, he realized that whatever troubles came his way were too much for him to handle. If Nagata planned to get rid of anyone that wronged him dead center, it was best for someone to know about his current location.

Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed.

He needed to tell Wakatsuki Hiko.

* * *

**_Thanks to_**_: Shadow of a Broken Angel, Juliedoo, kiss2lips, and ruler of dragons for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

Arcana 01: Le Bateleur (Magnus of Power)**  
**

- Personification of power and masculinity.

- Great omen.

**- **Represents action and initiative, but immaturity as well.

- It's appearance in a spread can point to talents, capabilities and resourses at the Querent's disposal. It means tapping into one's full potential rather than holding back.

**- **Could signify the appearance of a manipulator, though reversed, he may be a beneficient guide (without one's best interests in mind).

- Can represent the Querent's ego or self-awareness and sometimes the intoxication of power.

- Negatively represents trickery or deception.**  
**

- The Magician creates his desired reality.

**These will be added at a precise moment. They're meant to be educational in terms of what aspects inspired the characters based on tarot card in question and at the same time signify certain aspects that need to be taken into account.**

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Upped the rating to "M" to let Nagata's creativity flourish. I face palm knowing that poor Ichigo will be so traumatized by the end of this by Nagata, I literally wonder how much his character will develop. (I hope to make him cooler..._yeah._)

Also, in the entire story, I have to say Nagata's style of fighting is going to be my favorite because it's so terrifying. Somewhere in the later chapters it'll be explained why there was a scythe, though it's quite appropriate for him considering he _is _death. (Of course, the basic meaning of Death in the Arcana is vastly different to his actions, but that will eventually be explained. I am not deviating from the actual significance of the Major Arcana, no, I'm merely using details in which to enhance them).

I am quite saddened that Sugihara Yurie died in one chapter. Originally, I planed a mini-arc in which she would befriend Haruka, instill some courage in her, and explain the Arcana's deepest darkest secrets (at least more basic knowledge) before Nagata killed her/him for saying too much. In the end, I had to scratch the idea and rushed through her death, but she did say a few spoilerish things-mostly on becoming a member of the Arcana, but then again, so did Nagata. Well, I did say there would be revelations and there were.

I feel I might have said too much about Haruka, but in the end, I still have the element of surprise. Nagata could be lying. You never really know about that one. but then again, Haruka _is _technically dead...so..._it doesn't matter?_

Anyhoot. I'm planning to write one-shot extras on Arcana members to share their backgrounds. Sugihara Yurie, as the Magician, will be featured in the first Extra (which will be released whenever I finish organizing the outline). I'll probably hold onto it a while considering the amount of spoils it'll contain.

So, thank you for reading! :)

There's a preview for Ch. 8 up in my lj. You can find a link somewhere in my profile. There's a "masterlist" link near the top of the page that would probably help more.

In the next chapter, look forward to meeting the Lovers, have an indepth explanation of Haruka's SLE, Nagata being an asshole, a look into the _secret base_, and Ichigo probably getting traumatized.


	9. Enchanted Apartment

**Chapter Eight, **"Enchanted Apartment"

* * *

The address on the slip of paper led to a five-story apartment building in the outskirts of Karakura Town. It was an expensive-looking building owned by a couple. He wasn't exactly sure which direction to take to find the apartment suite and so, he asked the old woman stepping out of the lobby, who looked a bit stunned at the mention of Nagata.

Blinking, she said, "I didn't think Nagata-san had any acquaintances."

_I don't think he thinks of anyone as acquaintances, _thought Ichigo as he inclined his head in affirmation and took in the directions given to him before bursting into the building. He rushed up the staircases at the end of each corridor until he reached the apartment suite at the end of the top floor.

Ichigo reached the doorknob and turned it, surprised to find it unlocked. He looked both ways, making sure no one was around to see him enter the apartment, and slipped in, shutting the door with his foot. He kicked off his shoes at the entrance, noticing three different pairs of boots thrown askew and rushed into the nearest room which so happened to be the living room.

He was about to place Haruka down when he heard the squeak of the floorboards. He looked upward to see Nagata staring at him serious. "Not there," he said curtly, jutting his jaw in the direction of a room down the hall. "Follow me."

Ichigo obediently followed the taller male into a clean room with a full-sized bed sitting across the window, where light could not reach it.

"How the hell'd you get here so fast?"

Nagata rolled his eyes, heading straight for the window to draw the curtains. "_Tch, _not my problem you humans are slow."

Ichigo placed Haruka on the bed, pushing her messy hair from her face. His hand barely touched her forehead, but he immediately felt cold. She had been devoid of her body's temperature and now laid a cold corpse. It stung, somehow. It honestly hurt to acknowledge that she was actually dead, but he couldn't see her that way.

With her eyes closed and her muscles relaxed, she looked as though she was sleeping. It felt better to think that she was.

"What happened to her?" asked Ichigo cautiously.

Nagata seemed awfully quiet by the window as he moved some things around on a squared table.

"Want something to drink?" started Nagata briskly, obviously avoiding the question.

"No."

"Whatever."

The blond male left the room to rummage through the kitchen's refrigerator for something interesting to drink. He was a bit disappointed that there were only two bottles of fruit juice left and an entire fridge that could easily pass as a liquor store. He should have probably chosen not to spend any time with Tsukamoto, who brought alcohol into his house and complained about his snobby wife for hours. He would have killed him if he hadn't lent him the apartment.

Nagata returned to the bedroom to see Ichigo sitting next to Haruka, staring at her painfully. "Hey brat."

The teenager turned around and felt something cold pressed against his face. He took the bottle and stared at it questionably. "What is this?"

"Juice, fool." Nagata leaned against the window. "Drink up. You're probably feeling weaker than normal."

Ichigo frowned while undoing the cap of the bottle, noticing the slightest traces of fatigue the moment it was pointed out. He seemed the slightest bit out of breath even though he was used to worse strain. His body was used to physical exertion, but Haruka had felt heavy in his arms. The second he reached the bottom floor of the spiral staircase, he felt his arms go numb, but he ignored it. He was so set on rushing Haruka to the address on the paper to care about his wellbeing. He inwardly knew it wouldn't matter if his body were broken…Haruka was his priority.

He took a sip of the grape flavored drink and shot a wary glance to the older male. He had killed someone without batting an eyelid and disposed of the body as if he had been doing things like that his entire life. His earlier perceptions of Nagata Taishi were replaced by the new film of images. No matter what Sugihara Yurie planned to do, she didn't deserve the death she had been given. So, there was no telling what he planned to do next.

He hadn't even tried to help Haruka; he was just leaning against that wall watching him in aversion.

Did he plan to let her stay dead?

"Let me guess," started Nagata wryly, holding the bottle to his lips. "You are sitting there wondering what my next move will be, but it's impossible to tell because I'm undeniably impulsive. You hate that about me. Actually, you hate that about anyone. You like predictability because it's easier to counter."

Ichigo bristled.

"I am not asking you to trust me," continued Nagata simply. "In fact, don't trust me. Be wary of my actions and my character because the villains of your story compared to me are nothing but greenhorns with sorry pasts that justify their actions. I am the real deal. I do the things I do because I am a vagrant, an asshole, a prick. I am every bad word you can think of multiplied by a thousand. And deep down inside, you know I'm the next villain in the story and that I'm just buttering you up until you can face me properly. Or I can be your typical anti-hero, unorthodox but with all the good intentions. Or maybe I'm the hero and you're the villain. In my world, you never know, so quit trying to do the impossible, idiot."

"You're annoying," grumbled Ichigo, focusing his attention on Haruka's face as he took another sip of juice.

"Gee, how do you think I get off at night?"

He spit everything out as his head snapped toward the nonchalant blond. "W-What?"

Nagata averted his eyes. "You heard me. I won't repeat it."

_That's disgusting._

A pregnant pause filled the room as Ichigo pushed unwanted thoughts out of his head and stared unfalteringly at Haruka.

Had she ever looked so peaceful before? He wondered that and much more. Had she always been so pale? So unmoving? So—

"Oi brat," started Nagata, interrupting his train of thought.

Ichigo blinked, scurrying the thought out of his head. "What?"

"You took up Wakatsuki Hiko's offer for the money, right?"

"Eh? No," he answered quickly.

"I would have done it for the money," Nagata remarked derisively.

_Obviously, you would._

"Why did you agree to it anyway? You had a choice. There would always be a backup and with all the shinigami swarming her house, it was clear she'd be safe. Why would you decided to keep some loser company for that much money not knowing you would require powers in the end? You're only going to feel useless as time progresses, you know."

"Don't tell me things I already know."

"Then, why did you accept?"

Ichigo slouched in his seat, hands fisting on his lap as he thought back to the moment that Hiko ran the idea by him. It was a shady proposition that offered way too much money that a teen his age could handle, yet he accepted it simply without so much as a second thought. It wasn't the money that tempted him, no, he was certain.

"Wakatsuki,' he started hesitantly, "…She—I—"

Nagata remained placid. "Hmmm."

"…Wakatsuki looked so lost…"

Nagata raised an eyebrow, unable to comprehend his reasoning for agreeing to something so darned suspicious. He would have done it for the money, that's it, and he wouldn't do a good job.

"By the way, the brat is alive. Even Sugihara wasn't that stupid."

Ichigo felt furious, suspicious Nagata was lying to his face. "You didn't have to kill her."

"'Course I didn't, according to your logic everyone is redeemable. Haven't you ever wondered why people don't ever take you seriously? You never honestly try to kill someone. You're way too good for this world."

"Sugihara didn't need to die," Ichigo argued.

"Sugihara served his purpose. I only needed him to gain access to the dimension in which you were trapped."

"Him?"

"Sugihara was a guy, pretty liberal, had the biggest crush on me," said Nagata, waving a dismissive hand to match his snarky tone. "Not a bad kisser either."

"Damnit! I don't need to know that!"

Death snickered. "Joke, Kurosaki, go buy yourself a sense of humor with all that extra cash."

Haruka suddenly shifted, curling over his seated form, startling him. His eyes went wide as he watched her eyes open to mere slits.

"…_noisy_," she murmured drowsily.

"Wakatsuki?" he called urgently, all thoughts vacated his mind immediately, as his hand grabbed a hold of her shoulder.

The girl closed her eyes once more and took a deep breath. "Kurosaki."

Nagata extricated himself from the wall. "Oi brat," he said, drawing Ichigo's attention. He tossed a noisy bottle in his direction and headed straight out the door. "She'll have to take one of those."

Ichigo caught the bottle in the air and checked the label on the pill container. The medicine was the same she took at home and even the pills looked alike, so his suspicions quickly subsided.

Nagata returned shortly to the doorway and looked to Ichigo. "Stay here until she can get back on her feet. I doubt you'll be able to leave until tomorrow morning considering both your conditions."

"Why should we stay here?" asked the teenager suspiciously.

"This place is filled with my energy, Kurosaki Ichigo, and when used correctly, it can be therapeutic, s-so you can under-unders—_snrk_." Nagata barked out a laugh, holding himself by the doorframe. "Ah, I couldn't even believe that one myself. But the place has healing properties that pass through the air. It's why Wakatsuki came back to life faster and the reason you feel a little less exhausted."

Nagata straightened out and pivoted toward the hallway. "I'm going hunting. Share the room and the bed. I'll bring dinner. Relax. I'm not going to hurt you and contrary to your belief, I'm actually quite honest."

Ichigo tensed at the mere mention of sharing the bed. "W-Wait—w-what?"

"Oh? Problem?" asked Nagata sleazily, glancing over his shoulder. "It's not like you _like _Wakatsuki or anything? She's disgustingly petite and grossly pale—not at all womanly. Her rack makes up for it, I guess, but it's not even worth it if they're just big enough for her body—right?—because she doesn't have a nice hip to waist ratio." The blond shook his head disappointed. "What if she breaks in the middle of s—?"

"Shut up, damnit!" cried Ichigo, beet red. The second Nagata had mentioned breasts, he subconsciously realized that said breasts were pushed against his knee thanks to Haruka's curled body. He couldn't get the thought out of his head now.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

"So you have a thing for her?" asked Nagata sourly.

"No!"

A wicked smile appeared over his lips as he made a face. "…That's so gross."

"Shut up already!"

"…So_ fucking _gross."

"I don't!"

"…_Whatever_."

"Stop looking at me like that! You're creeping me out!"

"I'm creeping _you _out? How do you think I feel? You practically confessed to having feelings for Wakatsuki Haruka—of all people? You have good pickings Kurosaki with that healer in your party—"

"Don't call it a _party!_"

"—I mean, have you seen the size of those t—?"

"Shut up already!"

Ichigo was a thousand shades of crimson as the idiotic conversation progressed.

"I mean, you also had that shinigami woman with the funny hair, right? Though I can understand why you wouldn't like her, Sugihara looked more like a girl than she does—"

"—N—"

"—but Wakatsuki? That's a no-no. Actually, it's a _hell_ no."

Ichigo covered his burning face. "Just leave."

"…_Gross._"

It wasn't until after he heard the front door open and close that he managed to relax. Ichigo rubbed his face, embarrassed, still feeling the heat of his humiliation and glanced down at the pill bottle in his hand. He shot a diminutive look in the sleeping girl's direction, every teasing word Nagata spouted swept through his mind—rattling his nerves.

_I can't let that guy get to me, _he decided fiercely, popping open the bottle and dropping a pill into his open palm. "Wakatsuki."

"Hmm."

He swallowed hard unconsciously. He didn't expect her to be awake. He wanted to have to wake her up from her light slumber and feel that he had gotten away with his humiliation without Haruka knowing anything about it.

"Um, Nagata left medicine for you."

She opened her eyes, looking upward at him. "I don't want any."

He frowned deeply. "I don't care. You're drinking it whether you want it or not."

She tightened her lips and buried her face in the pillow. "No."

Frustrated, Ichigo grabbed her hand and dropped the pill inside. "Just do it." He held the bottle of juice over her head. "Here, drink with this."

Haruka grimaced childishly as she raised her head. "If I die, it'll be your fault."

It would probably be bad if he told her she had already died earlier. It didn't seem she noticed anyway, so he'd much rather keep it to himself.

She took the pill and tossed back her head as she took a large swig of his juice bottle, placing it back in his hand shortly after. She dropped back down onto the bed and rolled over into a comfortable position without saying another word.

Ichigo stayed quiet for a long moment, looking to Haruka and the wall behind the bed's headboard.

"…Wakatsuki?"

"Hmm?"

"…Did you—_ah_—did you hear anything…?"

"…_anything?_" she said inquiringly with a slight hum in her voice. It was a bit drowsy. "…_Anything like what…?_"

"N-nothing, never mind." He bolted out of his seat, running a hand behind his head as he did a beeline to the doorway stiffly. "I'll be out here."

Haruka waved a lazy arm in his direction and he closed the door quietly. He wandered about the apartment complex, head darting side to side as he took in his surroundings. The place had a modern aesthetic to it. It was larger than any normal apartment, but the building itself looked expensive on its own so it made perfect sense that the homes were a tad bigger. It was well furnished and cool to fend off the heat.

There wasn't much to do, Ichigo realized as he took a seat in the living room. Nagata didn't exactly say when he would return or what he could or could not do, but with that man, there were without a doubt some rules. He just didn't know them and he wouldn't, even if he had asked.

Ichigo searched for his phone, digging through every pocket to realize that it wasn't there. He couldn't have dropped it, could he?

He rose from his seat to walk through his memory, but even after reentering the room where Haruka was sleeping, he didn't find a thing.

He sunk back into one of the couches in the living room with a deep sigh. "Where the hell did I drop it?"

* * *

_At the bottom of this well, you will find a treasure._

Wakatsuki Haruka never did anything wrong. She thought this quite often when wasting away in a stark white room with needles in her skin and too many drugs in her system. She was not spoiled, arrogant, judgmental, prejudiced, or bitchy without provocation—she didn't function that way, her mind didn't at least. She never caused harm or meant harm. She had always been known to be an oddly quiet, obedient girl, and she was kind to everyone that approached her.

So, she didn't quite understand why she—of all others—had to be diagnosed with neuropsychiatric systematic lupus erythematosus. She also wondered why it had to have such a longwinded name, so it was normal for her to refer to it as SLE (as it was). Nobody needed to know the high mortality of NPSLE, except those that were already aware.

Sometimes she couldn't handle knowing that her life would end soon, though she had no qualms. People have to die in this world, or else there wouldn't be a proper cycle.

_"What will happen once I die?"_

Her mother oftentimes placed one hand over hers and looked at her with a reassuring smile. Her mother visited the hospital everyday at the start of visiting hours until the doctor in charge had to appear to tell her they were over, as she never listened to the nurses swarming the hall. She never truly believed there was no cure to her daughter's SLE, so she was almost overbearingly optimistic.

_"Don't think that way, Haru. You'll be old and wrinkled when you die, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, got it?"_

Haruka partially opened her eyes, glassy blue orbs straining against the flood of light filtering into the bedroom. She rubbed her eyes drowsily as she flopped onto her back, not knowing whether she had fallen asleep or not. She didn't notice, but felt incredibly weak thanks to the medicine.

She groaned. Her body was aching. Just bending her arm towards her was incredibly painful. Her throat was dry, her stomach hurt, and though she was restless, she wanted to stay in bed to continue sleeping.

She closed her eyes.

…_tired._

"Haru?"

"Hmm?"

"Haru…"

She reopened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder as a sudden weight sank the bed. There was an auburn haired woman placing a hand over her arm, a delicate smile graced her lips.

"What's wrong Haru?"

"…_wrong?_"

Haruka couldn't wrap her head around the inquiry. Was something supposed to be wrong apart from the sudden wave of joint pains?

"Did something happen?" asked the woman, again, curiously.

"I met a boy that dressed like a girl," she murmured sleepily. "His hair was pink…but, I think he's dead now."

"How did that happen?"

"I think the zombie killed him."

"Why would he do that?"

"…I don't know."

"How do you feel Haru?"

Footsteps approached languidly.

"…_How…do I feel?_"

Haruka felt the hand on her shoulder lift when she turned away from the woman.

"I think—"

"Wakatsuki—"

She sat up quickly, dropping the blanket thrown across her body to her lap and stared at an incredulous Ichigo.

"Kurosaki, where are we?"

"Were you talking to someone?"

She blinked, uncertain, but her tone didn't show it. "No."

Ichigo shook the thought out of his mind. "Nagata brought dinner."

"Oh."

"You hungry?"

"A little," she admitted, swinging her legs off the bed and standing. She felt her stomach twist in protest. "Are we with Nagata?"

The orange haired teen leaned into the doorframe, looking a tad uncomfortable. "Yeah, he helped us."

Haruka inclined her head and bounded toward Ichigo, who led her out of the room and into a large kitchen area where Nagata stood behind a tall counter pulling lunches from a plastic convenience store bag. It looked as though the older male had gone to buy groceries. He shot both teenagers a fleeting look before they ushered into the kitchen and pulled up a chair at the square table.

Nagata bend over behind the counter and moved around it, placing one plastic bag full of bento and canned soda in the center before handing each teen their _tightly packed _schoolbags.

"I collected your bags and brought clean clothes for you to wear along with new school uniforms for tomorrow morning," he explained quickly. "Eat as much as you want, the fridge is stocked up. You can use the bathroom in the room you were in, there's a shower and bath, whichever you prefer. I also expect you both to go to bed early because I'm not waking you up tomorrow morning."

Haruka stared at Nagata apprehensively.

He arched an eyebrow. "There somethin' on my face?"

"Are you one of those teachers?"

His eyebrows furrowed suspiciously. "What?"

"You know," she said tonelessly, "one of _those _teachers."

Nagata's gaze darted to Ichigo's equally confused expression. "Kurosaki?"

"Don't ask me! I don't know!"

"Are you?" pressed Haruka, eyebrows knitting.

He glared at her viciously. "Spill it."

"Are you the sort of teacher that preys specifically on teenagers?" she started quickly, and in one breath went on to explain. "You become the cool new teacher at the school and weave these special connections with students until by some twist of fate you fall in love with one of them, but you deny it like crazy to yourself. You spend half of the next fifty chapters in self-loathing for loving a minor, but then you realize they love you back and some inspirational speech they give you makes it possible for you to confess. When you do, there's a flowery background and lots of sparkles and you hug and kiss so passionately your jaw—"

Nagata looked just about to burst. "What the _fuck _is wrong with you?" He shot a glare at Ichigo. "What the _fuck _is wrong with her?"

Ichigo blinked knowingly. "Fujimoto-san introduced her to shojo magazines. She's reread those Betsuma and Margaret magazines for hours."

"I have Cookie and Kiss, too," she admitted easily.

"Have you seen the sort of games she plays?" Ichigo shook his head. "The shojo is better for her."

"So are _you_?" she pressed.

"Hell no!"

"But if you were, would Kurosaki be your type?"

Ichigo's eyes bugged, disturbed by the thought, but his expression was shadowed by the horrified look on Nagata's face. She would not be swayed from her answer—that was obvious by the slight look of determination in her eyes. Somehow, within that moment, they realized that a little part of them wished she stayed quiet, mostly to spare themselves the humiliation her innocent spurts ensue.

She blinked, concerned about the lengthy silence. "What?"

"Do you hear yourself speak?" asked Nagata, seething.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"That's not what he meant," grumbled Ichigo.

"Oh." She suddenly looked shocked. "Wow, you're agreeing with each other already."

"Just eat and shut up!" barked Nagata, stomping out of the kitchen and disappeared into the hallway. The door slammed noisily behind him.

The orange haired teen shot Haruka a cautious glance to see she was rummaging through the plastic bag, pulling a bento and strawberry soda in front of her with a playful smile.

"Wakatsuki?"

She broke apart the wooden chopsticks and started picking at the rice. "Yes?"

"It was Ueda-san, wasn't it?"

He lips twitched. "She bought me new magazines."

Ichigo rubbed his face while shaking his head.

"Let's just eat."

He looked to her and nodded. There was no use sitting there lamenting Ueda's decision to provide Haruka with something she would use inappropriately. That Ueda-san was a horrible influence on the girl.

Ichigo and Haruka ate quietly, engaging in slight conversation that didn't go beyond what was happening in that moment. He couldn't talk about what happened to Sugihara Yurie after Haruka's death.

"…I died today, didn't I?"

Ichigo chocked on his soda, coughing as he pulled a napkin to his mouth. He didn't expect her to say that.

"W-what?"

She lowered her gaze. "Sorry," she said softly. "It's so uncool that I literally drop dead every two to three weeks."

"You don't die—"

"I did the math," she interjected. "I am ashamed."

"Two to three weeks?" he said inquiringly.

She nodded knowingly. "Yeah…two to three. Definitely."

It was hard to admit, but her life no longer belonged to her. Nagata brought her back once in that old building. That day she wasn't sure what had happened. She only knew that life returned to her and that there was a strange feeling lingering in her spirit. It dragged her down.

It was upsetting that she had died three times in the course of two months. That had never happened before.

Haruka left her seat before Ichigo conjured a response and looked at him fleetingly. She took her tightly packed schoolbag. "I'm going to shower."

She ventured back into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her, and dropped the bag over the mattress. She unzipped it and started digging through it to find her schoolbooks, comfortable clothes to sleep in, and a new, nicely pressed uniform for tomorrow. She suspiciously enough discovered her toothbrush, shampoo, medicine, and lodged in between notebooks sat her PSP.

She pulled it out, glancing over her shoulder to the door, and left everything a mess on the bed when she plopped down on the floor ready to continue playing the game she hoped was inside.

Even so, she didn't feel okay. She was seeing tall shadows in the bedroom, surrounding her like in that dimension, and behind them were colorful walls that looked exactly like her paintings, except aged.

She unconsciously dropped the game on her lap and drew her legs to her chest, embracing them.

…_I don't like it here._

Burying her head in her knees, she shut her eyes tightly feeling as strands of brown-gold hair slid over her shoulder and shaded the contours of her face. Every horrid realization flooded back into her mind.

…_I just want to sleep and never wake up…_

* * *

Nagata reappeared in the kitchen an hour after Haruka left, refreshed to see Ichigo was the only one sitting at the table. He languidly took a seat across him and fumbled through the plastic bag for the leftover root beer.

Ichigo stiffened as usually. The fool was always guarded, but he couldn't be blamed. Everyone else within the Arcana acted the same, especially that bossy little runt. Nagata would have readily given the kid the easy way out, but he was useful to him, thus came the delay of Wakatsuki Arashi's death.

Truth be told, he was much more interested in Osaki Miho, Fortune. She had one hell of a convenient ability and considering how long she has been awake as a member of the Arcana; her strength to counter his ability of extension came quite easily—child's play, practically. He opted to murder her alongside Sugihara Yū and somehow create a scene in which both parties would be guilty of their deaths, but if he compared the two, Miho was of better use. Though, he had been feeling drained since the Magician disappeared. His power was no longer at its maximum and he could no longer reliably extend Wakatsuki's life without reversing the effect.

So, he brought the kiddies to a very special, very enchanted apartment where Arcana abilities were interrupted and reversed. Haruka was granted a miracle and Ichigo currently being stripped of all the malignant energy he acquired inside Sugihara's dimension. Even with all the backdrops surrounding Sugihara's death, not once did he regret doing it. The foolish boy's life will be put to good use at the end of that week and so would his abilities.

"Haruka is going to die this weekend."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You heard me. She's going to die _again._" Nagata sounded annoyed. "She's like the annoying character in your favorite series that's always getting kidnapped, except Haruka dies the same amount of times."

"How can you even be so sure?"

"Did you seriously just ask me that question?" he asked, incredulous. "Who do you think I am?"

Ichigo didn't answer, his lips merely molded into a tight line.

"Everyone in the world has a life expectancy and I can read it," he went on to explain, matter-a-factly. "Some are blurry, others come naturally. Haruka's is always in my face, like neon lights."

Ichigo's expression darkened. "How…?"

"I don't know how, but it'll probably be caused by her illness," he said assuredly. "Backdrop, I can't guarantee she'll live."

The teen's eyebrows knitted. "Aren't you the one that brought her back? Twice now?"

"It was once," corrected Nagata snidely. "The apartment takes credit for the second." He waved a dismissive hand towards the skepticism registered in the boy's expression. "But that's not the point. For the first time in my life, I am at odds with ways to circumvent her impending death. Know this never happens and if you wail on me, I will feel absolutely no shame while murdering you."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"We need to bounce ideas."

"Why should I bounce ideas with you? She's my responsibility."

"Because I don't want her dead probably as much as you don't. We have overlapping interests. We need to form a partnership."

"I don't want anything to do with you!"

"Let me put this in words you understand," started Nagata carefully. "You are a seventeen-year-old ex-shinigami representative without even a sliver of spiritual energy. I am twenty-year-old Death, the strongest member of the Arcana. Haruka is a sixteen-year-old loser without friends that is nothing but a meek human that dies as easily as she breathes. I really don't have to be doing half the things I've done, but I'm doing them for the sake of that girl."

Ichigo blinked perplexed, not having expected that sort of response out of Death. Did he mean it?

"Why?"

He stared at him as if he had grown two heads. "If I tell you, that just kills the mystery."

"…Eh?"

"If I tell you everything I know it would kill the fun in the mystery."

Ichigo stared at the blond in disbelief, and proceeded to complain, "What does the mystery have anything to do with this?"

"The mystery has everything to do with it, besides we're not partners so I don't have to tell you anything."

"So if we were working together, you would tell me?"

"Fuck no. I wouldn't trust a brat like you!" he said snappishly.

"What's the point of implying you would if you wouldn't?"

"Because it might make you say '_Nagata-sama let's be partners please.'_"

_Nagata-sama…?_

A disgusted look crossed Ichigo's features when the pattering of footsteps reached their ears and both turned their attention to the hallway.

Haruka was standing there with wet hair sticking to her skin, dressed in a comfortable pair of cotton pants and a slim fitting tank top. She had slipped into the room's adjacent bathroom to shower and get rid of the dark goo sticking to her hair before listening to the later part of the heated conversation going on between Ichigo and her homeroom teacher.

"I could disappear to Kyoto with my grandmother before the weekend."

Nagata shot a cutting glance at Ichigo. "Now why can't you be helpful like she is?"

"You're the one that doesn't want to tell us anything!"

"Kyoto with your grandmother, whose mother is she?" asked Nagata, blatantly ignoring Ichigo's protest.

"My mother's."

"Great. Take Ichigo with you."

"I can't go to Kyoto," protested Ichigo. "Don't just decide things on your own!"

"I was planning to ask Arashi to come—"

"No," snapped Nagata. "Take Ichigo and don't tell anyone where you'll be going. Just disappear."

"Can I at least tell my grandmother?"

"I haven't agreed to this."

"No, just drop in. Surprise her."

Ichigo's patience was slowly deteriorating.

"Grandmother doesn't like surprises."

"Don't care. Surprise her anyway."

"Hey!"

"What if she gets mad at me?"

"Punch her. Just give her a good jab."

"Oi!"

"…I don't know what that is…"

Ichigo suddenly burst out of his seat, letting the chair crash into the ground and his hands slam onto the table's surface. "Will you two listen?" he yelled irately, managing their attentions. He stared Nagata down first. "Stop involving me in you plans if you can't be certain about bringing Haruka back to life." Then, he turned to Haruka where his expression softened. "I think taking your brother is the best idea. I can't just disappear; it'll cause too much trouble, besides I'd be better help here."

Nagata snorted, but avoided laughing aloud as he faced the girl. "You should head to bed, Wakatsuki."

Haruka shrugged her shoulders and trudged back to the room, not feeling up to defy the dead man.

"Kurosaki, sit down," Nagata ordered, a while after determining Haruka was out of earshot and gestured to the teen.

Ichigo picked up the chair, but didn't sit down. "What?"

"Haruka's brother is a member of the Arcana," admitted Nagata darkly. "He's the one pulling the strings and was the cause of many of her accidents. He pushed her onto the street knowing there was a speeding car. Do you honestly want to send Haruka to her own death? If she's away from me or the Hierophant (or you, on occasions), she runs a higher risk of falling into one of his ploys."

"You can't be serious?" said Ichigo in disbelief. "How is that even possible?"

"Coincidence," shrugged the blond. "There really is no telling with the Arcana. People are aptly selected from billions and are given the gift to awaken the power. That doesn't apply to everyone, though. Hierophant, Hermit, Death, Devil, Judgment, and The World—everyone in this group is an old soul, a part of the Original Arcana."

"The Original Arcana?"

"We're supposed to possess a particular quality that strengthens the Arcana that we simply reincarnate into our next body once we meet our true death. The body's we currently have are mere copies of what we used to be."

Ichigo understood little, but chose to continue seeking answers that Nagata willingly gave him. "What's the difference between the Originals and the current Arcana?"

Nagata smirked devilishly. "The Originals are stronger and are designed to rule over the rest if they so wish, but no one is willing to do so. Kouyou enjoys humanity, Ageha prefers solidarity, Touma only wants pleasure, Yamato is a rigid asshole with asshole ideals, and Nagi—Nagisa hates violence."

He hesitated.

So Death had a weakness?

"And you?"

"I just want to kill everyone."

_He and Kenpachi would have gotten along well._

"Where are the other ones?"

Nagata breathed deeply, hinting at his disappointment. "Well, I might as well tell you since I already opened my big mouth," he said, taking the first sip of his soda since he grabbed it. "Well, you've seen Kouyou already. He wastes his time on bus stops or train stations—anywhere populated actually—observing humanity. Ageha is sealed in a dimension of his making, probably reading. You should have seen him stacking up on the books before he did it." He snorted amusedly as he recalled having to heave a tower of books into a dimension resembling a library, following close behind the lithe figure of Nagisa, who was carrying an equally gigantic stack. "He had everyone help." He shook his head, batting the memory away and refocusing. "Last time I checked, Touma went to travel the world to _pick _exotic fruits. Yamato hasn't awakened into any cycle since the First Cycle was massacred. And you see me; I just recently got back from sleep."

"What about the last one? Nagisa?"

Death averted his eyes as he rested his chin in the hand of his propped arm. "I haven't seen Nagisa since Wakatsuki Hiko killed her during the Third Cycle."

_Wakatsuki's dad?_

"When was the Third Cycle?"

"Hmm, six to seven hundred years," he said distantly. "I gave the Gotei 13 a good run for their money."

"You fought the Gotei 13?"

He smirked proudly. "Gave that old man a few skin decorations."

"And Yamamoto?"

"He fought me three on one with both his students. It was messy, but he wouldn't have killed me otherwise. I became easy prey after dismantling a horde of shinigami." The reminder filled him with the same sense of satisfaction the experience had given him. He had never set foot into Soul Society since the First Cycle after they were massacred, swore he wouldn't meddle with ingrates or assholes, but when he did, it was a matter of pride. "Killed off most of the captains too, they needed to go picking for new ones. Must've been fun."

Death took a deliberate pause to have a sip of his root beer and that was when Ichigo carefully worded the sole question in his mind.

"Were you in love with Nagisa?" he asked hesitantly.

In that instant, Death's eyes went wide and the root beer came out in a spurt. "That's disgusting!" he cried, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he got out of his seat to clean up the mess. "That's so fucking gross. Just stop talking. Stop listening to Haruka!"

"Tell me one more thing," started Ichigo seriously, getting his attention and a perked eyebrow of approval. "Can I trust you when you say Wakatsuki's brother is a member of the Arcana?"

"You want proof?" questioned Death. "Ask Arisawa Tatsuki if he has a tattoo on his arm, a roman numeral eleven. He should have it. Everyone in the Arcana does at first—a tattoo that is."

"What cycle is this?"

"Our fifth. Your masked friends should know all about the fourth."

Ichigo looked a bit bothered after hearing that. It seemed everyone had had some involvement with the Arcana before.

Nagata tidied up quickly, still disturbed by the thought after he locked himself in his bedroom. There was absolutely no way one could get love from what he finished telling that stupid idiot, but it certainly made him wonder.

* * *

Haruka woke up early to take her medicine, careful not to step on Ichigo, who refused to sleep on the bed with her and slept on a futon beside the mattress, and found herself stopping abruptly—one foot over Ichigo's body. She was unconsciously straddling the poor guy as her focus quickly adjusted to the sudden intrusion.

A statuesque male with an artsy feel about him was leaning against the doorway watching them. His straight dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail, though a long strand framed the better half of his face, his charcoal eyes were vigilant and hooded, though they had a spark of enthusiasm. He wore dress pants with a long coat over a crisp white buttoned down shirt and thick framed glasses that looked to be the same ones Nagata wore during his school hours. Haruka couldn't deny the strangers handsomeness. In fact, she felt inclined to pay close attention to the ruggedness of his face with the slight facial hair, his very straight nose and dark eyebrows. He seemed to have had the perfect body frame, muscled nicely underneath his clothes.

Her cheeks were burning at the thought.

He smiled crookedly at the sight of her blush. "Hey."

"H-hi."

"Where the fuck are my glasses?" cried Nagata from the other room, rummaging noisily through his things. "Tsukamoto!"

The man tilted backward to have a glance at the hallway. "Over here, Taishi."

"I told you not to touch my things asshole."

Nagata appeared at the doorway after snatching his fake glasses from the man called Tsukamoto in a fresh black suit and maroon colored dress shirt. He had jet black hair that morning, probably freshly dyed and styled messily. The dark hair definitely drew attention to the sharpness and iciness of his blue eyes. It suited him better, but that didn't mean he liked it more.

He elbowed the stranger roughly, making him stagger. "Quit doin' that, she's half your age," he berated defensively. "I don't wanna have to worry about Faye doin' something to her." His eyes snapped to her, keeping her frozen in her place, as she felt less inclined to do something uncharacteristic of herself by blushing madly and eyeing the stranger nonstop. "You, get your medicine and wake Kurosaki. I'm leaving now."

Nagata disappeared and shortly after, the door slammed shut.

Haruka finally moved forward to retrieve her bag and take her first dose of medication. They were mostly vitamins to keep her from straddling the anemia-fence. She didn't have to worry about passing out because the pills were too strong, though she did remember that happening when she first started attending a normal middle school. She had been the It-Girl afterwards because she was Arashi's twin sister—but in an "_ooo_ _she's sick_" sort of way—for a short-lived week before Wakamura unleashed her reign of terror. It took a backseat when she managed that boyfriend that only lasted a month. She didn't remember much about the relationship itself, but they had stayed friends…for a bit. Eventually, entering Karakura High became her worst nightmare considering she was stuck with Wakamura in her classroom, regrettably until graduation—if she made it that far, that is. Nagata had been right when he said she didn't have any friends.

Nobody really found her agreeable….

She took her vitamins quickly, feeling the stranger's eyes on her back as she pulled out her uniform.

"I'm Tsukamoto Kazumasa, by the way."

She looked over her shoulder to him and inclined her head in greeting. "Wakatsuki Haruka. Nice to meet you."

"I'm the owner of the building and the enchantments surrounding this particular apartment were the work of my wife, she raided the Magician's old tomes and charmed the place," he said lightly, crooked smile unfading. "Do you like it?"

His expression soften, there was a hopeful look in his eyes.

Haruka lowered her gaze to the clothes she hugged to her chest. "Yes," she admitted softly. "It almost feels like I don't exist."

He smiled sweetly and raised a hand. "Goodbye Wakatsuki-san."

She blinked, feeling something tug in her chest. "You're an Arcana, too."

"You noticed?" he sounded surprised. "Your receptors are sharpening. Soon, you'll be able to find us quite easily."

"Which?"

"Lovers."

She remembered looking through the packet of tarot she bought from the boutique before Nagata Taishi's death and recalled the Lovers card in detail.

"There are two Lovers," she said assuredly. "Who is the second?"

"My wife."

"Is she pretty?"

"She's beautiful," he admitted seriously. "I'll introduce you if we ever happen upon a chance."

"What happens if we don't?" she asked carefully.

He looked sad. "We shall meet in different conditions. Severe and unfair."

Again, her heart gave a sharp tug. "Tsukamoto-san, if I die, will there really be peace?"

Kazumasa had one foot out the door, eyes crinkling as the question processed, and a kind, hopeful smile. "I think you can make a difference whichever your choice may be. Don't be hasty. Don't give up on life." He looked as if he were brittle to the touch, hands taken by tremors and eyes glassy. "There are people in this world that want you alive for the right reasons."

Those words left an unconscious impression with her that she couldn't shake throughout the process of getting ready for school that she forgot to wake Ichigo in time.

And so, a new day of school would start. She only hoped this one would be normal.

* * *

**_Thanks to_**_: ruler of dragons and Aries01xD for reviewing the previous chapter!_

* * *

_About NPSLE: (longer version available later or never, but this is pretty self-explanatory, too. meh.)  
_

NPSLE affects the central or peripheral nervous systems. Common neuropsychiatric disorder with SLE is a headache, cognitive dysfunction, mood disorder, cervrovascular diseas, seizures, polyneuropathy, anxiety disorder, and psychosis (- totally symptoms).

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Can't stay long, should be sleeping.

Thank you for reading! :)

**Edit**: There is a preview to Ch. 9 in my livejournal. It's very short, doesn't make any sense, but somehow, it sounds like it'll be important later in the story.


	10. Wicked Wicked Wicked

**Chapter Nine, **"Wicked, Wicked, Wicked"

* * *

Ichigo complained and grumbled under his breath upon realizing they missed the first train that meant to take them to Karakura High on time. He didn't expect to oversleep, but it was incredibly difficult to do so with the serene energy encasing the apartment. It was too easy to feel comfortable in what could be considered a devil's den with Nagata Taishi sleeping in the adjacent room. Even if he was sleeping, Ichigo made sure never to try anything funny under his supervision. He didn't have to follow his seemingly nonexistent rules, he knew that he didn't, but he unconsciously did.

Haruka was the only one willing to try against him and it was probably because she knew that no matter what she did, he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She manipulated the importance in her life to grate at Nagata's nerves freely, and secretly, Ichigo felt she enjoyed doing so. Before they had gone to bed, Nagata appeared at the door while Ichigo laid out the futon and Haruka immersed herself in her game to regard him properly. She had absolutely no intention of paying any attention to him and it was probably that aspect of hers that annoyed him the most.

He was practically guarding a brick wall, but then again, the wall wouldn't second-guess your sexuality for being a teacher.

Nagata was quick to berate them about missing their bedtime. "It's 10:30."

Ichigo figured his best defense was to ignore him and finish setting the futon. He was going to sleep anyways.

Haruka on the other hand, didn't. "It's 6:30 in Europe."

"Does this look like Europe to you?" he asked, annoyed.

"No," she said simply. "It's a mental state. I'll be going to sleep in four hours, okay?"

It wasn't a wonder to an observant Ichigo that Nagata had exploded, confiscating her game and tossing the blanket at Haruka's head. He shut the lights, slammed the door, and grumbled all the way to his room.

"Wakatsuki…?" called Ichigo warily.

"He's so funny when he's mad," was her meek response.

She was having the time of her life. He barely managed a wink of sleep not knowing whether she was sleeping yet or not and ended up staying up much later than planned, which probably led to his oversleeping. The problem about running late was the fact that he decided to walk slowly to be considerate of Haruka's poor physical state. She wasn't allowed to play sports or participate in any activity that would lead to physical exertion because over the years, it seemed her illness worsened with that element in the mix.

So, they turned up late to school where the P.E. teacher gave them a fit punishment for their tardiness—cleaning the classroom and practice buildings. They separated after reaching the second floor of the classroom building. Ichigo still needed to take on one last flight and Haruka braced herself to deal with whatever wrath Nagata imposed on her. It probably wouldn't be as horrifying as Ichigo may have imagined because Nagata was just an emotional terrorist.

For now, at least.

* * *

There was a slight intermission as the history teacher made the trip to Ichigo's class to start their next lesson before the lunch bell rang. So, the realization didn't really hit him yet.

There was gossip in the air, encasing the classroom in noisy clamor—speculations about the newly appointed teacher, and whether or not, anyone has seen him around—nobody claimed they had, but apparently, he's the homeroom teacher of Class 2-1.

Well...not until Yamaguchi Tomo spoke up and everyone turned to stare at the vivacious redhead with sparkling eyes. Obviously, if anyone knew about the latest news circulating the school, it was Tomo, the class gossip.

"…He's got wild blond hair and a super sharp gaze," started Tomo excitedly, "but he wears these super geeky glasses and dresses in really expensive looking suits."

Ichigo was almost ashamed he knew her as his eyes trailed away from the girl to Keigo's empty seat. He glanced toward Tatsuki, who sat in the adjacent row, two seats away. "Oi Tatsuki, where's Keigo?"

Tatsuki raised her eyes from her open notebook and shrugged her shoulders unknowingly. "Dunno. He's been acting pretty strange lately though. Guess he was sick after all."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Sick?"

Keigo was stubbornly healthy and had almost never missed school unless it was crucial. Last time he saw Keigo, he didn't look sick.

"Yeah, I dunno either," replied Tatsuki seriously. "I guess he was just acting really weird, I figured he was sick."

"Weird how?"

Tatsuki stared at him suspiciously. "What's with all the questions? Why don't you just call him or something during lunch?"

The orange haired teen opened his mouth to rebuke the dark haired girl when the classroom door slammed open and in walked in Nagata Taishi.

The chatter instantly seized and Tomo looked a bit sheepish after seeing the man's hair was actually very black. Everyone looked at the redhead as though she had betrayed them.

Nagata slid the door shut just as noisily and tossed his folder onto the stand at the front of the classroom from that short distance. It landed in the center and he turned to face the students, a wicked smile appeared on his face upon noticing Ichigo sitting in the middle of the room looking horrified.

"Ah, Kurosaki, I forgot you come to this school," said Nagata gracefully. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm Nagata Taishi. Address me properly."

Whispers started buzzing as Nagata's address attracted Ichigo a few curious glances and a very offended Tomo, who busily mouthed off inquiries he ignored for the sake of his sanity.

Nagata glared coldly at the entire classroom, frightening the lot of chattering students into silence, and as the quiet set in, the tyrant smiled.

"So, I read through the dead guy's lesson plan—"

"Hey, he was a nice guy," protested Tomo, offended, "even if he was boring."

Ichigo shot her a sharp glare, which she must have felt considering she twitched. _Shut up Tomo!_

"I'm sure he was," said Nagata easily, making his way behind the stand were he leaned into it. "Everyone in Class 2-1 cried after hearing the horrible news, especially Wakatsuki Haruka."

Unconsciously, Ichigo burst out of his seat. "Leave Wakatsuki out of this Nagata!"

Everyone quietly began talking again watching as Ichigo's embarrassment began to tinge his cheeks and wondering if this Wakatsuki Haruka was his secret girlfriend.

Their wannabe teacher smiled and it was instantly obvious he had accomplished what he came there to do, which had nothing to do with teaching. "Nagata-_sensei_, Kurosaki-_san_. Please refer to me properly and sit down. There is no need for you to blow your top."

"Wakatsuki?" questioned Tatsuki silently. "Arashi's sister?"

"You know Arashi?" queried Nagata with mild interest.

"He's in the Karate Club," she replied promptly, not expecting him to hear her at the back of the classroom. She kept her face neutral.

"Isn't he a dick?"

…

A deafening silence engulfed the room. A teacher just called a student a dick. That had never happened before.

Ichigo's face met with his palm as he sank into his chair further, questioning Nagata's sanity.

"Well," continued Nagata, deadly serious as he stared directly at the dark haired girl, "I asked you a question."

Tatsuki frowned. "Are you even a teacher?"

"Tatsuki shut up!" growled Ichigo over his shoulder.

"Don't shut me up!" she rebuked.

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"Doesn't answer mine, either," she retorted firmly.

"Tatsuki!"

The dark haired girl picked up her things and tossed them into her bag as she got out of her seat. All eyes were on her as she glared straight at Nagata fearlessly. "I'm leaving."

She didn't take the back door. No, Tatsuki was proud and walked up the aisle, swept passed Nagata whose smile twitched upward for a split second. Ichigo noticed Tatsuki's expression change before she left the classroom, amazing many of her peers.

"Kurosaki," called Nagata, drawing his attention. "_Go_."

Ichigo grabbed his things wordlessly and moved to the front of the classroom where he stopped to look at the teacher seriously.

"Make sure to check up on Wakatsuki."

He left the classroom immediately, spotting Tatsuki making a clean break down the hallway, muttering curses under her breath.

"Oi Tatsuki!"

She spun around, eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell's wrong with that guy?"

Ichigo took a breath. "He's an asshole."

"How do you even know him?"

"Eh…he a friend of Wakatsuki."

He could just imagine if Haruka was with him at the moment, that she would stare at him seriously and say, _"He's not my friend."_ But he didn't have a choice. He couldn't just tell Tatsuki that Nagata was a psycho, whose sole mission in life is watching everyone fail, and oh, by the way, he's also Death from the Arcana like the tarot cards. He also killed our old history teacher and the new transfer student.

There were a lot of things he just couldn't say.

"Is he even a teacher? He doesn't even look old enough."

_That's' cause he's twenty and he isn't._

"Apparently." He paused for a few seconds before remembering something. "What did he tell you on the way out?"

Tatsuki blinked. "Eh? I don't know. Something stupid."

"What?" he pressed.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" She looked at him strangely, but shrugged her shoulders, knowing he was too stubborn to let it pass. "Well, it didn't really make sense. He said my fortune changed and that I should watch out for assholes like Wakatsuki Arashi."

"…So you think Wakatsuki's brother's an asshole?"

Either way, the words didn't sit well with him.

Tatsuki frowned. "Shut up." She paused. "Where are you going anyway?"

Ichigo had started on the stairs with his friend following close behind. "I'm going to check on Wakatsuki."

He was surprised he didn't have to go very far to find her as she was sitting on the floor in front of the girl's bathroom trying to pick up the contents of her bag with a very snobbish looking girl reaching out to grab her by the hair.

"Get away from her!" shouted Ichigo, startling the unknown girl into fleeing the scene.

He reached under Haruka's arm and heaved her back onto her feet, noticing her clothes were dirty and crumpled. He brushed her shoulders and glanced down at the mess on the ground. There were traces of her bento on the floor and stuck in her hair and an obvious bruise forming over her cheek.

"Damnit Wakatsuki," he grumbled impatiently.

Tatsuki appeared beside Ichigo, looking down the hall cautiously. "That's Wakamura. She's trouble." She then turned to Haruka and blinked. "Whoa, you look nothing like Arashi. I think you might be a little taller too."

Haruka looked at the dark haired girl blankly. "Who are you?"

"Oh," she said, suddenly sheepish. "Arisawa Tatsuki. I'm a friend of Ichigo. I'm also in the Karate Club with your brother."

"He's an asshole, isn't he?"

"Eh?"

That question certainly came up often, catching her off guard.

"Oi Tatsuki, help me pick this up," called Ichigo, crouched down near them, picking up Haruka's things. He saved his friend the trouble of answering the obvious question.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Tatsuki said, "Yeah, fine."

Ichigo reached for her vandalized schoolbooks all scrawled with unnecessary abuse. Her PSP and MP3 were broken beyond repair and when he reached for her schoolbag, he realized it was dripping. Somehow, when Haruka first named Wakamura her bully, he didn't exactly believe that it was true. So he was shocked to see it was and that Haruka wasn't really reacting as one would in her situation. She was quiet and expressionless, always lost inside herself and never exactly aware.

He stuffed everything else in his bag, even her broken electronics.

"What happened to your face?"

"Oh?" she started absently, touching the area gingerly. "Wakamura-san pushed me into the wall during gym."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you didn't have gym."

"I don't have to do anything or even go outside, but I still have to go."

"What happen to your clothes?"

"They just got dirty," she said dismissively.

Ichigo clucked his tongue in frustration. "Why can't you just stand up for yourself, dammit? You stand up to Nagata and your brother all the time, but you can't go up against one girl? Why don't you tell her to shove off or punch her or something?"

Tatsuki watched in silence after handing everything in her hands to Ichigo.

"Nagata is dead. Arashi is an asshole. Wakamura is human."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Dead people don't have feelings."

"That's not what I meant!"

"If I tell Wakamura-san to shove off or even gather the appropriate amount of courage to punch her, don't you think it would make the situation worse?" she asked tonelessly. "I'd rather deal with whatever she may have planned for the future than force myself to be the bully."

Ichigo bristled. "I'm not asking you to be the bully! I'm asking you to stand up to her. Tell her to stop bothering you."

"I don't think you understand, Kurosaki, but I am not going to give Wakamura the pleasure of accomplishing what she wants."

He was taken aback. _So she's letting Wakamura bully her…_

"Besides, she won't be able to bully me anymore after I die this weekend." Haruka shrugged her shoulders and reached into Ichigo's pants in search of the phone Kazumasa returned to him.

"Wakatsuki!"

Tatsuki's eyes bugged out, but the thin girl pulled out his phone.

"I need to call my dad."

"Just say so!" he said, face flushed. "Don't just stick your hand in my pocket!"

Haruka merely stepped away from her upperclassmen and dialed her father's number by memory.

"She looks like a handful," commented Tatsuki, folding her arms over her chest. "You wouldn't think considering she's always so quiet and mild mannered."

Ichigo sighed deeply. "Guess you're right."

A sly smile appeared on Tatsuki's face, one that he noticed right away and dreaded. "You two seem awfully close, eh?"

"Whatever," he waved dismissively.

_That's 'cause we have a lot to deal with._

She looked annoyed, knowing better than to continue probing him. He wouldn't respond.

"…And what's with her saying she's dying over the weekend?"

His expression turned a bit worrisome as he started to hear snippets of Haruka's conversation with her father.

"She has a morbid sense of humor. Forget about it."

He sounded believable, yet Tatsuki was not sold.

_"My phone, PSP and MP3 player are broken again…"_

Ichigo suddenly remembered something and felt it convenient to be in Tatsuki's presence. "Oh hey, Tatsuki, can I ask you a question?"

_"…How did it happen?"_

Tatsuki looked at him evenly. "Well that depends on the question."

_"Well Nagata-sensei threw my phone—wait, what? His name? Taishi."_

"It's about Wakatsuki's brother."

_"Why are you coming over?"_

"Wouldn't you be better off asking Wakatsuki herself?"

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck contemplatively. "Well, yeah, but Wakatsuki doesn't care for her brother that much."

_"Stop talking so fast."_

"Harsh," mumbled Tatsuki. "Well what do you wanna know?"

Ichigo was too focused on asking his question to realize that Haruka just singlehandedly unleashed a sort of apocalypse against Nagata Taishi, who was probably the most sought after member of the Arcana.

"Does he have a tattoo?"

"Tattoo?" she asked quizzically, holding her chin curiously. "I think he might, on his arm, just below the shoulder."

"A roman numeral eleven?" he said subconsciously.

"I've never seen it clearly, so I wouldn't know." She tilted her head slightly. "The Wakatsuki twins are spoiled, aren't they?"

"They live alone together. Their dad is never home. Guess he'd much rather spoil them so they don't feel bad." Ichigo shook his head, regretting what he said. He had to omit details to make the story passable. He wasn't supposed to have any connection to the spirit realm, yet Death had given him the Sight to help him see shinigami (though there weren't any around now, which was peculiar, to say the least). "Wakatsuki is spoiled." He shook his head disapprovingly. "She's so spoiled."

Tatsuki laughed aloud. "Spoiled?"

"She does it on purpose." He was staring at the nearly emotionless girl standing in front of him still talking on the phone. "She's so meek and quiet, you would never know."

Haruka finished her conversation and returned the phone to Ichigo, looking very shameful. "Kurosaki, my dad's rushing back from the city."

"What for?"

"He sorta lost it when I mentioned Nagata."

"Tatsuki, we've gotta go," said Ichigo quickly, barely regarding his skeptical friend as he tapped Haruka's shoulder and headed upstairs. "Let's go Wakatsuki."

Haruka inclined her head in Arisawa Tatsuki's direction before following Ichigo up the staircase. "Where are we going?"

"Your dad is probably planning to kill Nagata."

"But he only broke my phone and talked about my body type."

Ichigo felt the heat crawling up his neck and into his face as he turned, quite mechanically, in her direction with an inscrutable look on his face. "…You heard that?"

Blue eyes flickered to meet with his. "You were noisy."

"Nagata was just—"

"How do you kill someone that's already dead? Isn't that redundant? Can't dad pretend he doesn't exist like the rest of us?" She sounded a bit annoyed at the end, mostly because she didn't understand.

The unknown never piqued her interest until she was directly involved. If the secrecy continued, she became livid. It was a horrible personality trait, she always thought, the absolute worst in her gene pool, but she could do nothing about it.

"Wakatsuki…"

"Hm?"

"Do you hate Nagata?"

Silence.

"…Eh? No."

"…That was too long a silence."

She looked at him innocently. "Did you say something?"

"Forget it!"

* * *

Shihōin Yoruichi stood at the doorway, watching as Kisuke murmured into the phone of an important call from the suddenly famous Wakatsuki Hiko. It have been a while since the last time she heard his name or even stumbled across a conversation between both men since the day of the Thirteenth Hour. So, she remained silent and watched as the eccentric shopkeeper finished his phone call.

Today, Urahara received appalling news from Wakatsuki. It seemed the unforeseeable dread they tried hard to avoid had been sitting dormant right underneath their noses, playing nice with Haruka and Ichigo. The blond felt it was regrettable of Ichigo to have gone and involved himself in the most potentially dangerous affair that had ever plagued Soul Society. Still, it had been centuries since it had only been Soul Society, they were after something larger this time.

The Arcana was not functioning as a united group. Death was running rampant. Strength dominated Fortune and Priestess. The Magician disappeared without a trace, confirming its own death. The Lovers have steered clear of trouble. Hierophant, Hermit and Devil have been missing since the Third Cycle. The rest haven't been awakened, but with the awakening of Death, it was obvious this would be the Fifth Cycle. Except, there were obvious discrepancies in their movements. Were they at odds with each other? Was this a method to confuse them?

Many questions rushed through Urahara's head as he put the phone down and turned to Yoruichi with a serious expression.

"Trouble?" she asked leisurely.

"We located Number Thirteen," he started gravely. "He is the most dangerous member of the group and I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Yoruichi's expression hardened. "Count me in."

"Be wary of him, Yoruichi-san, and never drop your guard, even for a second."

She nodded briefly, wondering what sort of monster awaited them. She still felt incredibly angry about knowing nothing at all.

"If Wakatsuki-san and Kurosaki-san are present, I encourage you to take them as far from him as possible."

For a moment, she envisioned Wakatsuki _Hiko_ and Kurosaki _Isshin._ Her expression changed. "Eh?"

"Haruka-san and Ichigo-kun."

_Oh._

She relaxed with a sigh.

_Right…_

* * *

"We need to somehow grab his attention," whispered Ichigo as they crawled along the hallway to avoid being seen through the large glass windows facing in.

It had been Haruka's idea after hearing he stormed out after his friend, Tatsuki, who valiantly stood up to the zombie. She only wished she had been in that classroom to witness it, but Ichigo admitted that it didn't faze the fake teacher as much as something she would have said.

"What if I walk back and forth until he notices—?"

The door to the classroom slammed open and out stepped Nagata, glaring at both furiously. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he snapped in a low grumble.

"What do you think?" asked Haruka tonelessly, eyes narrowed.

Ichigo ran a hand across his face. There really was no compromising between these two. Haruka would continue poking at Nagata until he literally exploded. It's as if she had a death wish.

"Wakatsuki's dad is rushing over."

Death's face suddenly grew dark, tone no different. "…He knows I'm here?"

"I accidentally mentioned your name and he went ballistic," explained Haruka lowly. "I didn't know you and dad were drinking buddies."

_Where the hell did she get that from? _Ichigo shot Haruka a questionable glance.

He was certain Wakatsuki Hiko and Death were enemies from the story the older male divulged last night, but Haruka did not. She firmly stood by her father's side and if she were forced to choose between them, she'd pick her father. Ichigo wasn't sure what side was the right one, but he had a gut feeling Soul Society had a better chance against the Arcana. If he was still a shinigami he would probably be taking Nagata head on, as recklessly as he had his previous opponents and wouldn't relent until he emerged the victor. This was different. He was powerless. Haruka needed protection. Nagata had been the only person willing to tell them the honest truth, as harshly as he may have put it. He had yet to determine which side was right and what was wrong.

Nagata suddenly straightened out, letting the fury pass and a sly smile appear on his face. He devised the perfect counterattack to what was about to occur in a matter of minutes. That left him little time to explain, so he decided on the basics.

He crouched down in front of Haruka, pulled his fake glassed from his face and slipped them on her. "Things are about to get heavy, understand?" he said, looking from Ichigo to Haruka. "I'm gonna drop you guys off at the train station. You're taking an early trip to Kyoto with your granny. Come, follow me."

Ichigo and Haruka exchanged quizzical looks, but jumped to their feet shortly after Nagata and followed suit. He moved them to the staircase leading up to the rooftop where he took a silent minute to confirm the approach of spiritual energy. It was cautious and well hidden, but still too far to reach him before he briefed these two idiots.

"Put this on Kurosaki," he stated calmly, unbuttoning his jacket and removing it. He tossed it along with the messy crop of hair on his hair, which so happened to be a wig to hide the fact he hadn't dyed his hair properly. His attention snapped back to Haruka. "Pull your hair up, get rid of that ribbon and wear the shirt you're wearing under."

"What's this for?" asked Ichigo, holding the wig in one hand and the jacket in the other.

"A disguise, idiot. Shinigami are going to be hunting you both down. That could work against all of us. Haruka's life will be put in jeopardy and you will miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I lost my sweater," murmured Haruka painfully. "The sun is too strong. I'll get a rash."

Nagata grunted. "Fine. We'll stop by the apartment and get you something, but hurry up already!"

"Do I have to wear this?" questioned Ichigo, eyeing the expensive jacket.

"I don't have a hair tie," grumbled Haruka.

"Just do it!" shouted Nagata impatiently, earning a chorus of grumbles from the teenagers as they complied with his demands.

When they finished, Nagata grabbed each by the arm and in the blink of an eye, they were standing in the center of the apartment, feeling their stomachs lurch disgustingly and their legs wobble as they took a few steps forward. Dark smoke still lingered at their feet.

"What was that?" queried Ichigo, dizzy.

Nagata rushed into his bedroom and out again, tossing a maroon sweater at Haruka, who made no effort to catch it. It slapped her in the face and fell to the floor where she picked it up. Meanwhile, Nagata continued his rush, jerking the schoolbag out of Ichigo's hold and tossing it across the room. He packed a white tote bag with lunches and drinks for their trip and handed it to Haruka.

"Take the first train to Kyoto. Go straight to your granny's ryokan. Don't move until I give you the okay, got it?"

Both nodded firmly as Haruka busily tied her hair into a messy bun and pulled the sweater over her uniform. "How're we going to get there without money?"

Death pulled out his wallet and presented them with ten thousand yen and a black credit card, which he handed to Ichigo. "That's for snacks. The credit card is for clothes, food, and whatever else you need."

Ichigo stared at the card, befuddled. "There isn't a name here."

"It's jinxed. It'll have the holder's name when presented."

The teen frowned. "Isn't this cheating?"

"It's the Arcana's hard earned cash, don't think I stole it."

"…Gross, you have a joint account? All twenty-something of you," murmured Haruka, averting her face.

"Not—you know what? This is stupid. I'm dropping you both off at the station."

Nagata didn't bother giving them a chance to protest, either one of them, and grabbed them firmly by the arms, once again using that very odd, extremely dizzying technique of his that transported them quickly to the farthest train station from the high school. He didn't stay long, either. They were just dumped in an unpopulated corner of the station, looking a bit ridiculous.

"…Hey, Kurosaki," called Haruka as her vision started to focus.

"What?"

"…Do you think I can buy another PSP with that credit card?"

Ichigo stared down at the card in his hand and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not."

. . . .

"Omph!"

Osaki Miho, dressed in a pink and black Gothic Lolita dress, was pushed forward by Tsukamoto Kazumasa. She hopped a few steps before regaining her posture and her eyes narrowed at the sight of Death. She had her arms tied behind her back.

"You're working for Death?" she spat furiously, mostly because Kazumasa had been ordered to confiscate her phone. She had an addiction to texting and was almost never doing anything else. "Shame on you."

Nagata was sitting on the slight grassy hill in the middle of a thick, dangerously populated sylvan outside Karakura Town and neighboring a ghost town. He created a trail for the shinigami to follow until they met with him there, of course, by then all last minute preparations would be complete and they would show to fight him alone.

At the moment, he was grumbling furiously, something Kazumasa barely made out. _"I am a teacher, goddamnit! I've got a fake license an' everythin'."_

"Taishi," called Kazumasa slowly.

"I'm telling Faye-san!" threatened Miho.

"Shut up for a second," started Nagata calmly, composing himself, taking a sip of a can of beer. "Listen up, too."

Kazumasa heaved a sigh. "Why are you drinking?"

"A sip of courage," answered Death, twirling his can and accidentally knocking the empty ones behind him with his elbow. He chuckled stupidly, carefully trying to restack them behind the nearest tree. "Well, not for me. Now you, Blondie, listen close."

"Spit it out already asshole" He head snapped back to Kazumasa. "And give me my phone back!"

Nagata frowned, crushing the now empty can in his hand, and with a deathly glare, said, "Kazumasa, backhand her."

"What?" cried Miho.

She was seriously going psycho without her phone in hand, Kazumasa could feel the emotion thick in the air. It wasn't a thrilling experience, either.

Kazumasa blinked, shifting his weight slightly. "I'm not going to hit her," he said simply, earning a sharp glare. "Glare all you want. I won't do it."

"Come 're Osaki, I'll do it." He gesticulated toward him.

Miho stared at him blankly. "Oh god, he's an idiot."

"That doesn't matter," stated Death, opening another can of beer. "It's not the point. The point is that you change Asano Keigo's fortune for two days from today. Make it an accident, too, jus' like you did with Haruka."

"Asano Keigo?" said Miho quizzically. "One of Kurosaki Ichigo's friends? What for?"

"Haven't you blasted brats noticed yet?" he berated with a hint of a slur. "There's like four of you and 'ne 'f me. I'm not even good at this skulking business, either, you lot should be ashamed of yourselves."

Miho decisively ignored the brat comment. "Noticed what?"

"Asano Keigo is showing his first symptoms. Soon, he'll start seeing things. Then the memories will kick in. Eventually, he'll live his last remaining hours in agony," slurred Death, in a way his words weren't taken as seriously as should be. "Kouyou will greet him as he's crossing, then we, as self-proclaimed rivals, will try our way to recruit him." He paused shortly. "Unfortunately, since Yurie disappeared, I haven't been in tip-top shape, so I have to rely on your impeccable ability."

"Asano Keigo? What Arcana?"

Nagata smirked. "Hanged Man."

Kazumasa looked at Death disappointedly as the terse silence set in. "…Taishi-kun, please stop drinking."

"Hell no. Nobody wants to kill the main contenders so early in the game."

The older man shook his head. "This isn't a game. You could be killed."

He barked out a laugh. "Wouldn't that be a trip!"

* * *

**_Thanks to_**_: ruler of dragons and Aries01xD_ _for reviewing the previous chapter!_

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Happy Holloween!

I'm glad I've gotten far enough in the story where I begin showcasing bits of Haruka's real personality. There are layers to it, but she hides particularly well behind a bland expression of them. She's actually pretty mean...a tad sadistic when it comes to Wakamura (you will see why in the next chapter). I'm pretty sure she's comfortable with Ichigo at this point, a bit at least, and they'll only get more comfortable in Kyoto with her grandmother. I'm excited to write the following chapters. I finally get to write Nagata fighting and explore a few points of view. :)

Also, I planned to dedicate a chapter to **ruler of dragons **who spoiled me with a lovely sketch of Nagata, but want to wait until the next chapter. Of course, you can still count this as a dedication if you'd like. :3

Thank you for reading!

P.S. - If Haruka dressed up for Halloween, she'd be a hardcore yanki! And probably force Ichigo to be the male version with a pompadour. I hope you enjoy the visuals! lol XD


	11. Tough Luck Bitches

**Chapter Ten, **"Tough Luck Bitches"

Haruka leaned into the semi-comfortable train seat, surprised she and Ichigo had managed to leave the station without complication (though they had grumbled a number of complaints to one another). The trip to Kyoto would be exactly three long hours and incredibly boring. She didn't even have her sketchbook handy or an extra game console to keep her busy and most of her notebooks had been destroyed by Wakamura, who looked to have been enjoying herself while doing so—who was she to intervene with such happiness? She cackled like most clichéd villains would do, and something deep down inside told Haruka that she and Wakamura were bounded by shojo magazines and stereotypical love stories.

Actually, they were bound by reasons bigger than a predator stalking one's obvious prey. It was a lengthy story, but one that required the right amount of thought process to keep her busy for at least a few minutes.

The brown haired girl heaved a sigh, tearing her eyes away from Ichigo, who looked as uncomfortable as she was, and looked out to the ever-changing scenery outside the window. Everything was a blur beyond her slightly obstructed view.

If Haruka had never taken an interest in painting from a young age and pursued some interesting hobby, like doing some genius hacking, then Wakamura wouldn't hold a grudge to what the teachers' biases rewarded Haruka's style as the better of the two.

Wakamura had impeccable talent. She was a perfectionist, very detail to detail, with a talent for surrealism. Haruka preferred Wakamura's paintings that were always so carefully crafted and beautifully tragic to her abstract and blotch watercolor paintings that represented emotions she didn't fully understand.

There was something eternal about Wakamura Sayo's paintings—they were limitless. Hers were bottomless and lacking. Something was always missing, so she took up painting oil based landscapes and people because she didn't want to put the brush down. She wasn't sure she could handle knowing there was nothing else for her to do.

Wakamura was right in voicing her opinions. She didn't understand why their art teachers and visiting collectors chose Haruka's paintings as the best. Hers were almost always brushed aside as common and lacking, when it was surely the opposite.

Wakamura Sayo knew this from the moment Haruka painted her first canvas in Art Club. Haruka was partial to the notion, even while remaining completely ignorant caught her fancy, knowing exactly what her lackluster talent provoked made club activities all the more interesting. Nobody had ever been so interested in her like Wakamura was. Yet, what she cordially classified as _interest_ was nothing but.

The raven-haired girl was interesting.

Haruka knew this from the moment the defeated look crossed the girl's face when her painting came second best to the new girl.

Maybe they were playing the same game from the start.

Maybe…she just didn't know how to interact with others.

A tiny smile spread across Haruka's lips as she recollected the moments that preceding the three-hour train ride to Kyoto.

Tsukamoto Kazumasa, one-half of The Lovers Arcana, happened upon the enchanted apartment that so happened to be his property and a strange conversation ensued between them while Kurosaki caught up on his lost hours of sleep. As ignorant to her situation as one in it could possibly get, Haruka realized, upon meeting the ruggedly handsome Lovers, that she could automatically classify him as a member of the Arcana. He had similar vibes to Nagata Taishi's violent energy, except Kazumasa had a cooler air. They were easily distinguishable when she had many to compare them to, mainly Ichigo who had energy like a void.

Truthfully, she had never noticed Ichigo until that morning.

_...It's easy to ignore._

Haruka couldn't sense energy before that morning. It would be a learning process, she supposed, and since it would be as such…keeping quiet came second. This new development wasn't as important as rethinking Nagata's decision to keep her living.

She woke Ichigo shortly after Kazumasa excused himself outside to take a phone call from his wife and the older teen rushed them through the process of getting ready for school considering they were already a minute late. By the time they had slipped out the front door, Haruka realized she had forgotten to brush her hair. The thought bothered her a bit—okay, that was a lie, it didn't bother her at all.

School started as she expected.

Nagata publically humiliated her.

Wakamura and co. scoffed.

Nagata proceeded to humiliate Wakamura and co. publically saying as the homeroom teacher, he is the only one allowed to do so.

Haruka slipped into her seat and for the rest of the school day tried hard to concentrate on lectures and mathematical equations. Everything being discussed proved to be difficult. She wasn't exactly used to learning at the same pace as everyone else, so she found herself falling behind on all the lesson plans, forgetting to take notes. She had every intention of doing so, but realized, at the end of the lecture, that she had never taken the initiative.

Sometime between the first and second period, Haruka slinked into the art room with permission from the teacher in charge of the club. She stayed in the cluttered room by her lonesome for approximately half an hour with a brush in her hand, a large paper lain out across a worktable, and a set of watercolor paint on the side.

Normal students weren't allowed to skip classes. To say she was normal would be an overstatement.

The Wakatsuki clan was all money and power like everyone perceived. If her father wanted, he could buy all Karakura Town and renamed it Wakatsuki Mango. Of course, Wakatsuki Hiko preferred to be a serious businessman and settled in running everything that was already in his grips. It might be too unorthodox to call him simple, but truthfully, he was. Business was his sole focus in life. It's why he spent all his time away, but not without leaving a good impression on others.

He donated large sums of money every year to all sorts of places that didn't include his charities. Last year, he had donated to Karakura High and somehow, the staff members soften at the sight or mere mention of the Wakatsuki twins.

Skipping class was easy. With an incurable disease like NPSLE, one could say it was a breeze.

Human beings enjoyed pitying the less fortunate, giving to them out of the goodness of their hearts or for their own selfishness, but in that sort of situation, they were all the same. Even if she was relieved from attending her Japanese class, the art teacher smiled kindly and asked her not to stay long, knowing that if he were to return and see here there…he wouldn't say anything about it. He would probably lean over her huddled form to catch a glimpse of whatever she was drawing and make small talk.

It was incredibly quiet in the room. It smelled strongly of paint and clay. Buzzing voices sounded as students passed through the hallways on breaks or other such things.

Long tresses of auburn hair were caught in her periphery and her body tensed.

Haruka accidentally let a dot of paint fall out of place, creating an unnecessary blotch over her drawing. It spread like venom until it slid underneath the light blue shade of water and created a lavender tone.

"…You made me mess up?"

A musical laugh sounded as she shifted uncomfortably over the stool.

"Did I scare you, Haru?"

She refocused on her drawing. Making the mistake look purposeful proved difficult as she tried doting the day sky with residual color and tinting it a light purple. It looked different now, an unhappier setting.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Haru. I never meant to scare you."

"…I don't like this…"

"…_This?_"

It was easy to see the petite girl's trembling hand as she continued waving her paintbrush across the page, producing sloppier developments.

"…But you've always liked painting, Ha—"

"You—"

At that moment, the backdoor slid open noisily and Haruka bit her tongue. She relaxed within the next minute under scrutiny and continued drawing a world that would surely look beautiful to others.

"Talking solo again, Haruka-san?" came Wakamura Sayo's distinct tone of voice, cold and sarcastic. "Didn't I tell you people will think you're weird if you do that?"

Wakamura said crazy when it was first mentioned.

The dark haired girl strode in until she was fluffing out her hair by the worktable, staring down at the messily painted paper with a wrinkled nose. She could smell its worthlessness like a specially trained hound.

"All you ever do is paint," she said pointedly, eyeing her cruelly. "Is that all you're good at?"

_Yes._

Haruka blithely passed time creating shapes with the messy watercolors.

"You can't do sports because your body is too weak," continued Wakamura derisively. "You don't do well in school because you have trouble remembering things. Your test scores are really something embarrassing. And even if you were pretty once, you're withering away. You're thin and sickly pale and your eyes are so hollow. Is painting all you can do…?"

Blue eyes flickered toward the sharp looking student for a short second, but her lips remained a tight line.

"…I think it's sad that you can't even do that right," she said with finality.

Haruka willed her hand to stop it from dropping her paintbrush.

After a long silence, Wakamura continued upon plopping down in the stool beside her. She leaned into her arms and glanced over, trying to gauge the emotion on Haruka's expression, though found it difficult as her countenance remained bland.

"So, what are you good for Haruka-san?"

Wakamura was only toying with her.

"You had all those chances to die and you didn't," she went on cruelly. "You might be one of those painters that get famous after death, you know. You could be missing your chance to shine. Maybe you should quit struggling against the current and let it take you."

…_Maybe the world is better without me here._

A voice inside her head begged her not to think that way. Another debated against it saying that her best option was death.

That was a sore Wakamura stepped on. Emotions were bubbling at the pit of her stomach.

It was something close to anger, perhaps. It was raging and out of control almost, but she refused to succumb to such rampant emotion. She _was_ tempted.

"Wakamura Sayo-san," started Haruka in a soft voice, "has the director of X Gallery called you?" There was a terse silence between them as Wakamura's eyes widened in a pure unexpected surge of fury. "He came by my home yesterday afternoon to talk about a young painter's display, but I turned him down."

The burst of anger gave Wakamura the final push. In one swift movement, the shorter girl shoved Haruka hard off the stool and heard the heavy thud of her body as it crashed on the floor. Her body hit a nearby chair, which clattered along with the stool she sat on, and Wakamura reappeared behind her, hands fisted.

"Nobody ever questions you, do they?" she spat furiously. "So you think you can get away with being a bitch, too?"

A smile crept over the fallen girl's lips.

Wakamura responded with a swift swing of her fist, which left a stinging bruise in the minutes that followed, before storming out of the art room.

_As long as I exist, she'll only be second best._

Henceforth, Wakamura and co. made her final hours in school a living Hell. During PE, after Haruka changed into the gym clothes and sat under heavy shade as the students ran the mile, members of the Wakamura fan club appeared in the locker room where they stole her uniform. Pieces of her moss green hoodie led her to the dumpster where her uniform had been crumpled and tossed.

When Haruka was ready to eat lunch, sometime during art class, Wakamura intercepted her and tossed all of her things, destroyed, into the hallway where Kurosaki and Arisawa made their entrance. Arashi had been standing at the end of the hallway with a fascinated look on his face, not moving to defend her, but disappeared shortly after Wakamura fled.

Arashi hadn't tried approaching her the entire day. She was certain that it was a good omen.

Her intuition was off.

"Wakatsuki."

Haruka snapped out of thought, eyes finding Ichigo sitting across her with a stern look on his face. He was still wearing that ridiculous black wig Nagata provided him with, but then again, she hadn't taken the fake spectacles off.

"Hmm?"

"Are you hungry?" he asked again, perhaps, as he rummaged through the tote bag he volunteered to carry.

He probably thought her arms would fall off if there was something heavy weighing her down, but that would go against all the muscle and bones structured underneath the skin that looked so unhealthy. It was still nice of him. She only wanted to tell him that she wasn't going to fall apart like he might be suspecting. She was surprisingly sturdy, even if she weighed half his weight.

A good tug at the pit of her stomach confirmed she was.

"Ah, yeah," she said quietly, straightening out.

"Nagata packed a lot of food here," he said, pulling out plenty of convenience store bento and placing them on his lap. "Which do you want?"

Haruka stood up and crossed the short distance to take the seat next to his. She reached for the bento on his lap, feeling him stiffen as her arm brushed against his that was forearm deep into the tote bag, and searched for a favorable one before retracting.

"This one."

"Ah, okay," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Here take this."

Ichigo handed her a bottle of strawberry soda.

"What's this?" she said quizzically, taking it regardless.

He averted his gaze when she stared at him straightly. "You drink these a lot."

She smiled as she leaned into the seat, a certain easiness cast between them as the train sped toward Kyoto and new scenery awaited them.

"I wonder what Nagata-sensei is doing?" murmured Haruka, with a full bento and an empty strawberry soda at her side.

Ichigo was thinking the same thing at the time, so it surprised him a bit when she asked. "Why?"

"Was it wrong that I told my dad about him?"

"Probably not," replied Ichigo laxly, knowing Nagata, he would make a swift escape.

"…I suddenly wish someone could save him."

Ichigo glanced in her direction. Her expression was different. She looked genuinely concerned.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't think it'd be fair if Nagata-sensei died again," she said slowly. "There is no new beginning."

This left a terrible impression on Ichigo. Could Haruka, perhaps, have deeper connections to the Arcana than anticipated?

"Can you sense Nagata?"

With a slight inclination of her head, Haruka confirmed a few of his assumptions.

"I was told that I would eventually be able to tell them apart," she said easily, "but if this is what it means then, I have always been able to sense them…? They're always near somehow."

"Can you sense Nagata?" Ichigo asked again, a bit louder that time.

Haruka looked at him. "Not as strongly as the other three."

Even at that distance, she could feel something horrible knotting at the pit of her stomach.

* * *

"Stop that."

Nagata Taishi was bent over painfully, discarding the contents of his stomach while Miho cringed and Kazumasa watched with obvious disappointment. Death regretted one thing and it had nothing to do with his sloppy appearance or the fact that this image of himself demolished what little authority he had gained through one short evening conversation with Kazumasa. He regretted mixing all that liquor and beer together.

Since he took his first sip of beer at the tender age of twelve, he came to a slight understanding that he should never be so stupid that he would mix alcohol. He stuck to brands, kept the good beer and liquor from the bad ones. If he was going to drink beer, that's all he was going to drink. Same went for the liquor.

So, it had been a stupid mistake to have literally taken an eclectic stash of both beer and liquor on his way out of The Lovers' enchanted apartment and spent the last half hour downing everything without care for brands and percentages. There was only one possible outcome for that situation and he was regretting it.

"Stop vomiting. It's disgusting."

"Y-You're not the one barfing, bitch," replied Nagata haggardly.

Kazumasa averted his gaze as Death hurled shortly after his retort and Miho groaned painfully, murmuring underneath her breath, "_So gross_" to which Nagata kindly asked her to "_Fuck off._"

Five minutes had passed before Nagata emerged from the foliage pulling on a shabby jean vest over a slightly frayed long sleeve shirt. He had to give himself some major points in choosing such a dubious location to pick a fight. He never expected to have time to change after his suit was ruined by an idiotic mistake.

He found the smarter half of the Lovers Arcana staring at him quite oddly, holding his chin thoughtfully.

Death raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed in tad disgust. "You lose something?"

Miho was currently sitting bored tied to the thick stump of a tree, struggling against the spiritually enforced ropes that Death was forced to use to keep her from running back to Arashi to bitch about her mobile being taken. That little shit would probably buy her a new one if Miho cried and said Death stomped over it until it broke—not that he needed to stomp more than once.

"You're sick!" she had shouted repeatedly after he disappeared to get out of his sullied clothes. "You're an asshole, no wonder Nagisa hated you!"

Kazumasa silenced her with an enchantment and they were left in peace.

"Well?" questioned Nagata impatiently.

"N—"

Death tilted his head back as quickly as Kazumasa jerked around, a pair of familiar faces appeared over the canopy of trees.

Wakatsuki Hiko stood before Urahara Kisuke, an unfamiliar dark skinned woman with vibrant purple hair and cat like eyes was a step behind the blond men, and coming half a step behind them all, appeared Kurosaki Isshin in shinigami robes.

"How'd you like that?" slurred Death, star struck. Wakatsuki was still in his gray business suit. "Makes me wanna tear his face off."

"Who?"

Nagata smirked in response before disappearing in a cloud of swirling black smoke and joining the forces gathered by Wakatsuki Hiko to dispose of every cycle of the Arcana until they no longer reincarnated to threaten Soul Society, of course, he brought new members each time.

"Sup, Hiko."

Wakatsuki drew his sword, a threatening piece of work—the only known zanpakutō in Soul Society meant to destroy the Arcana. He had been specifically relieved of his duties during the first awakening for all the right reasons and while he had never figured out a permanent antidote to Soul Society's favorite plague, he did a good job getting rid of them every cycle.

Call it dumb luck.

Nagata never had a chance to participate in the last few cycles thanks to Urahara Kisuke's involvement. The asshole created a nifty device meant to track members of the Arcana using one of Kouyou's tarots as a base.

"I commend your craftiness, Death," said Wakatsuki with a furrowed brow. "You've been right under our noses for quite some time."

"I hate straying far from my favorite people."

Kurosaki looked stupefied, having never actually encountered the notorious Death in any of his previous incarnations. "This really the kid getting you both worked up?"

The strange woman seemed to agree with what Kurosaki's father said, but that didn't mean she lowered her guard. She had been warned by Urahara, he guessed. _Figures, Urahara's the same ol' killjoy._

"Yoruichi-san…"

Death watched Urahara and the woman called Yoruichi whispering before the two returned their eyes to him, though it had only avoided eye contact for a mere second.

"How nice of you, Enishi-kun," said Urahara courteously, fanning his face. "You never show up so willingly."

"-sama," he corrected with a wide, devilish smile.

"How'd you manage to slip under the radar?" continued Wakatsuki. "The device is flawless."

"Beg to differ," interjected Nagata. "I like all the fancy gadgets you've been producing over the years, but seriously, boys, you know better than anyone who you're dealing with—" He cast a wry look to Kurosaki then to Yoruichi, "well, not you guys. Figures, Wakatsuki and Urahara rarely share secrets. They're assholes, but hey, that's what I like 'bout you guys."

Death waved his hand in a slight circle to his left, casting a string of luminous black speckled smoke and from the ring of magic, a long dark handle appeared. He grabbed it firmly and tugged out a gargantuan battle-axe. It was three times the size of the usual battle axe with crescent shaped blades that twined together to form a strange runic circle in the center with a large roman numeral thirteen, the symbol of his power. The black steel glinted ominously beneath the stream of sunlight as he shifted the abnormal weight of the weapon and rested the handle over his shoulders.

Standing side to side to his weapon, Death was dwarfed, but it didn't burden his abilities.

Wakatsuki was instantly alert. "No illusions?"

Nagata made a face as if his enemy grew three noses and an extra eye, but had been trying to grow it in reverse. It was disappointing to have been questioned so unkindly. He never used illusions against Wakatsuki. Wakatsuki was the special brand of beef jerky everyone hated except him. He treated him fairly while the rest suffered the ensnarement.

"Handicap, my good sirs…and lady, I have prepared various obstacles of which I will have to overcome," he started in his best salesman voice. "First, I have mixed various alcoholic drinks to dampen my senses. Second, I have taken it upon myself to kill the Magician to give my powers a good draining. And finally, I will start by attack you with my best friend 'ere."

Kazumasa put his face into his palm, disturbed. Nobody should ever have to deal with a heavily inebriated Death.

"_He used the salesman voice,_" he murmured painfully. "_I can't believe he used the salesman voice—thank god he hasn't started his Marilyn Monroe voi—"_

"How about it, _Mr. President_?"

"Goddamnit, Enishi!" cursed Kazumasa into his hand.

Kurosaki Isshin wore the same stupid expression his son had—_well, the one that was always on his face. _Yoruichi held in a snicker when she noticed the air around Wakatsuki and Urahara had intensified and their spiritual pressure began to make a permanent marker around the surrounding area. None had the opportunity to waste any more time speaking before the delinquent turned fake teacher slung forward with his axe held high over his head.

Nagata slapped his free hand over the handle, centering the weight as he ripped through the air like a cannonball and, with a proud smirk, allowed the dark energy surging through his body seep into his weapon.

Urahara pushed Yoruichi backward as Wakatsuki rushed to cover Kurosaki.

"When the circle in his weapon glows red, keep a meter of distance between you," warned Wakatsuki loudly. "He'll rot you from the inside out."

"Don't let your guard down!"

Kurosaki smirked proudly, sensing the surge of strange, ominous power clouding their radars. "He's the real deal."

Anyone with even an inkling of spiritual inclination would feel the evil sparking from the lone forest as far as the neighboring towns. Nagata Taishi was the unrelenting tempest—a prevalent force of nature. He represented the most important stage in life and enforced it like a natural law. He singlehanded commanded the Original Arcana as their general and named The World their Queen before Soul Society face an apocalyptic war against these higher beings.

Urahara awakened his zanpakutō, Benihime, and created his _Chikasumi no Tate_ [**1**] to counter Death's vicious swing. The axe smashed straight through the man's defense and through shards of vibrant red, Yoruichi slipped in with a deadly swing of her fist. She activated her Shunkō second before and sparks of pressurized kidō engulfed her entire body, specifically her tightly clenched fist.

Nagata bent backward narrowly avoiding contact when a flash of bright light rushed toward him from underground came at him. He twisted in the air skillfully, blocking the start of what Yoruichi may have hoped to be a barrage of overpowered attacks and with a quick jab from the bottom of his axe sent her crashing through a clutter of trees. He caught sight of both Wakatsuki and Urahara lunging forward with their swords ready and Kurosaki preparing for another wave of destructive power.

Death smirked evilly as the runic markings in the center of his axe turned a dim red. He backed up and launched the gargantuan weapon like a boomerang towards Kurosaki. He ducked as Urahara and Wakatsuki's blades cut through the air above his head.

Urahara prepared for his escape and twisted his blade before commanding, "_Nake_ [**2**], Benihime!"

A flash of red energy shot out from the steel blade. It reflected in Nagata's uninterested icy blue eyes, highlighting the gold flecks dotting his irises, before he disappeared in a flare of smoke. Kurosaki jumped back into the air, skillfully avoiding the shining red axe.

Wakatsuki halted his following attack, eyeing the surroundings.

"Handicap, my ass," complained Kurosaki, having borne witness to the acid trail the axe left when it barreled towards him. "He doesn't even seem drunk."

"His movements are definitely sluggish," confirmed Wakatsuki firmly. "He is quite precise in battle, one of the best strategists."

"He's figuring it out as he goes on," commented Urahara, looking downward until he spotted Yoruichi emerging from the rubble with a furious look in her face. He felt immediately at ease. "He's never this sloppy."

Kurosaki frowned.

Yoruichi joined them shortly taking a deep breath. "What the hell is that guy?"

"He's the strongest member of the Arcana," replied Wakatsuki, keeping himself vigilant. "There's no use keeping this a secret now that you've become involved."

"Arcana?"

"They are a mistake, treat them no differently," grumbled Wakatsuki. "They are parasites with the sole purpose of destroying Soul Society."

"Those are mighty fighting words, Hiko-chan!" Everyone looked above their heads to see Nagata Taishi hovering above them with gold-tinted eyes. "I'm a bit offended you consider us parasites. Think of us as a natural occurrence. Like snow days happen in the winter, we appear when the world's equilibrium is knocked off balance. 'Course, we've got some bad blood going on between us, figures you'd categorize us so unfairly. Soul Society doesn't acknowledge our existence—they do, they just like staying ignorant—so they hired little Wakatsuki Hiko to command a number of specially trained officers to murder the Arcana reincarnations in cold blood. Honestly, I don't see how that makes us the bad guys. We're pretty nice."

Nagata snorted. "Okay, I'm not nice at all. I hate your shinigami entrails and can't wait to dance around in them after I kill off the entire race."

"You understand what would happen if you bait the Royal Guard," started Urahara portentously.

"I aint scared of those pussies!"

"If Soul Society doesn't exist, the balance in the world will tip in the favor of the Hollow," said Yoruichi thoughtfully. "Do you intent to ally yourself with the Hollow like Aizen did?"

"Don't lump me in with four-eyes," Nagata said snappishly. "I wouldn't ally myself with mediocre intelligence!"

"Why bait the Royal Guard by destroying Soul Society?" asked Wakatsuki. "You have access to the Spirit King's dimension, so why waste your time here? Why not head straight there?"

"You already know, Wakatsuki Hiko, why are you making me waste my breath?"

"If I make assumptions, you ultimately prove them wrong just to prove me wrong."

"That's because you shouldn't make assumptions of others. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners, eh?" He shrugged, disinterested. "Guess not? Figures she's dead."

Kazumasa looked to be dying of humiliation where he stood, hidden within the frondescence of the forest watching the advantage of four experienced shinigami over the Arcana's strongest member in a disturbingly inebriated state. He had offered his help before the battle commenced, aware Nagata would ask him to take a hike (in quite a foul manner), but he couldn't shake the uneasiness. The perturbed look on Osaki Miho's expression said she felt no different, though she had allied with their enemy half. The unity enforced on the Arcana was solid, deny it all if you will, but if a member is in danger or is seconds from losing his/her life, the shock of the dread would travel through their veins like bells tolling in the inside of their head.

Yet, Nagata did not feel fear to the gapping disadvantage. If any of his four opponents fought at their peak, Death would meet his end instantaneously.

"Nagisa will never approve."

"Obviously, she won't. She's a hippie." Nagata waved his index finger in a circle, making a tiny cloud of black smoke into a ring. "She'll prolly bitch and cry and beg and force me not to do it, but the beauty in this is that Nagisa won't be makin' an appearance. Well, she might, jus' not any in the next few years."

"You don't know that. She's still out there. Her human body could perish any day now since you're alive."

"That's true," he admitted casually. "But you're missing a detail. I know who The World is, you don't. I can keep her alive, it's in my abilities and Fortune's. She won't be interfering like she has in previous cycles."

The simple admittance made Wakatsuki uneasy. "What?"

"You heard me, Nagisa's gonna kept her opinions to herself at least until you're all dead…you know, like I promise."

"Where is Nagisa?"

Nagata barked out a laugh. "Guess the only way you'll get me talking is beating it outta me."

"That works for me." Wakatsuki's gaze darkened as he placed his right palm flat over the steel of his zanpakutō, slipping a thumb underneath until the sharpness cut a thin line over the skin between. "Burden—"

"I am so terrified," mocked Death, unmoving. The yellow flecks in his eyes started appearing in large quantities until it changed the once ice blue hue to the vibrant shade of gold.

A loud humming sound rang in everyone's ears; the reverberation of trees crashing into the forests' tight-knit terrain came shortly after Wakatsuki had started emitting a monstrous amount of reiatsu, as he fed his reiryoku into the blade along with the fresh blood spilling from the tiny cut between his thumb and index finger.

Yoruichi was the first to lurch forward, kidō shot out her body like a white sparkler, and following close behind was Kurosaki, who wielded his sword masterfully without having to use the shocking force behind his Getsuga Tenshō. Even Death knew better than to let himself be hit by that attack. It would do a great deal of damage to his semi-mortal body. It was probably in his best interest to avoid being hit by any of their large-scale attacks. He wasn't particularly adept with barriers, in fact, he sucked at creating and controlling them, so he couldn't rely on them as Kazumasa or Sugihara would in battle.

_Leaves me with little options._

Nagata flipped backward, kicking his leg sideway.

Yoruichi slipped under his swift attack, eyes fixed directly at the cold golden stare looking back fiercely. There was annoyingly arrogant spark in that gaze, enhanced by the slight curve of his lips. He was not looking directly at her, but at Wakatsuki hiding behind her residual kidō mouthing off the all-too familiar name of his ridiculous zanpakutō.

The thing about being a genius tactician was that no matter the strategy, how skillful a person was, or the amount of experience one had in battle, in those thousand years of living, he had memorized just as many counterattacks. It probably wouldn't hurt to have the extra boost of the Magician's Power, though.

_Maybe I shouldn't have killed Sugihara._

As he threw his body backward, creating the illusion of receiving Yoruichi's electrifying punch, he caught sight of a dark object wiring behind the four ex-shinigami at high speed, glowing an threatening mahogany.

"—_Kokushibyou _[**3**]," called Wakatsuki, cracking the center of his blade, as a cry of Benihime's sword vibrated in Nagata's ears. A cloud of violet smoke slid inside the red energy blast cutting towards Death and bubbled inside like the surface of a witch's cauldron.

_Cheater._

Wakatsuki's sword had shrunken into what resembled an oddly proportioned blade with a bulbous handle and sloppily placed needles all along the surface from which violet smoke slithered out of with their disintegration. The weapon wasn't particularly useful in a sword-to-sword battle, so Wakatsuki had focused his training elsewhere. His shikai ability, though, was the biggest bitch.

_Worse than Mother Nature._

Nagata cast uncertainty from his mind, catching sight of Kurosaki just before he swung down powerfully. He jumped out of the way and before landing back where he once stood, smiled mischievously. The red energy pierced through the air and disappeared further into the sky.

"I'd duck if I were you," he uttered to Kurosaki's bent form.

Kurosaki's head snapped toward him before Death disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He immediately heard the strange wiring sound and sensed the antagonistic energy coming closer to the cluster of fighters. He turned to his direct left and watched as the Death's gargantuan axe flew towards everyone.

"Behind you!"

Everyone reacted in the nick of time, fleeing the scene before the axe came a meter closer to them with a quick shunpo. They reappeared far from the scene to catch their breath as their eyes searched the expansive sky for Death.

Nagata appeared in his axe's path, catching it with ease. He begun replenishing the energy the axe had wasted in his boomeranging trek and watched as the four nodded after a minute exchange. His opponents looked determined.

"Urahara and I will dull the effects of his axe and disarm him," decided Wakatsuki. "_Ekibyou_ [**4**] should nullify its special ability in time for Shihōin-san and Kurosaki to attack simultaneously."

"If they get too close, he could still use it," reminded Urahara.

"He can't," said Wakatsuki observantly. "The Magician's death put a strain to the amount of power he can use, so he'd rather use his axe as an extension of himself."

"It'll be impossible to disarm him," said Yoruichi, wiping her forehead.

"How much stronger would he be if that Magician were around?" wondered Kurosaki aloud.

"As he is, he's not even a quarter of his original strength," replied Urahara seriously.

"Impossible!" snorted Yoruichi.

"The Arcana stand at the top of the food chain in this world, for them, nothing is unattainable," admitted Wakatsuki. "Of course, Death is the harshest combatant, but once he is taken out of the picture, the rest of them fall like flies. He's the only one that needs an entire army to kill. The others can't overpower a shinigami of the captain class."

Fighting Wakatsuki certainly brought Nagata back into his past's reality. Memories were a horrible distraction.

He waved his axe around impatiently, tempted to shroud the weapon with illusions to slack during the confrontation but desisted. If he bothered wasting more than the expected amount of energy that afternoon, his vitality would decrease and might render him useless for quite some time. He still had to meet Haruka and Ichigo in Kyoto where he hoped to prepare the orange haired brat for an uprising. If something did happen to him, someone needed to keep Haruka out of danger's way. Ichigo had been chosen by Haruka's own father, who wasn't a bad judge of character, so he trusted the decision.

His opponents rushed him once more, ten times more aggressive.

Nagata instinctively launched his axe into Wakatsuki's direction, tired of having to look at his painfully determined face. He didn't see Yoruichi or Kurosaki anywhere in his field of vision. Urahara came at him from above with a swing of his sword.

"_Shibari_ [**5**], Benihime," uttered Urahara as the condensed energy held within the sword spread into a blood red net and launched itself at him.

He watched his axe sliced through the cloud of poison mist Wakatsuki created with his _Ekibyou. _The axe slowed down progressively, absorbing the energy tinged poison, until the eerie glow of its markings disappeared. Wakatsuki pointed his sword in Death's direction.

"_Orosu_ [**6**]."

The sharp, poison coated needles covering the swords surface detached and flew towards him like misguided missiles.

Nagata had little time to avoid both Urahara's poison layered net and the needles flying at him like acid rain, but managed by twisting his body around to create a spiral of dark mist. He kicked the needles as he spun and watched them stab through the net, disintegrating the energy holding it together like acid melting through metal. He shielded his face as the net exploded in mid-air. A string of recollections plagued him as he watched a blur appear before his eyes before he had time to recover. He felt a sharp pain in his jaw as one of Yoruichi's Shunkō–fueled punches sent him barreling backward. It didn't stop there as she came at him with a barrage of punches and sent him crashing through the forest, returning the favor.

The trees harmed in his path fell simultaneous creating a cacophony of sounds and a cloud of dirt over the foliage.

Death crawled out of the crater formed underneath the strength of Yoruichi's attack with his shirt in tatters and scuffed boots. He coughed out a string of blood as he straightened out and used his ripped shirt to clean the blood from his mouth. A deep gash ran across the corner of his eye. He lowered his guard for a split second when he remembered something deeply embedded in his memory.

In the First Cycle, he remembered the redheaded boy clinging to his defeated form as a cloud of darkness marched to finish what had taken a collective assault to accomplish. Long strands of bone white hair shielded his blurred vision. Darkness etched its way through the corner of his eyes as he slowly felt the last bit of blood exiting his body through the gaping hole in his stomach. The quivering voice of the child rang incessantly in his ears, no matter how many times he asked Touma to "_shut-the-fuck-up_". As the enemy closed in and he struggled to pick up his enchanted axe, a blur appeared to shield him.

White hair tangled behind the lithe figure hidden underneath a white shihakusho and black haori. She had abandoned her weapon in her rush and held her arms apart to shield them.

_"Nagi—Nagisa!" _he chocked, bending over to cough out a heap of blood.

_"Enishi!"_ cried the redhead.

_"Leave them," _said Nagisa peacefully, heartbroken, as her body trembled. _"Take my life in exchange for theirs. Everything will return to normal. The Arcana will end with me."_

Nobody saw the goodness in her offer. Nagisa was murdered in cold blood. Then the rest of the Arcana was gathered and executed without pity. None had access to their newly inherited abilities. They were practically human, having lost their original abilities and the power they fought long and hard to attain.

Ageha and Kouyou took Touma and fled into dimensions of their own creation that erased their very existence as Nagisa's final orders.

Nagata lifted his eyes. There was a reason he was fighting this war. A bright light reflected in his gold orbs as he stepped onto leveled ground, coming at him at full speed as he pushed every regrettable memory out of his mind. His body stiffened and a steel needle caught his eye. It had stabbed into his shoulder, he figured around the time Yoruichi first attacked him, and the venom was slowly spreading. He felt the flesh surrounding the puncture bubble as the acid began itching.

_Shit._

He couldn't move.

"Bakudō #81, Dankū [**7**]!"

A card shot toward his direction, stopping in front of his eyes to reveal the picture of a man and female standing side by side, entangled by a dark ribbon, underneath it read, "_L'Amoureux_". A translucent barrier spread from the tarot card in front of Nagata's eyes to the form a large rectangular wall. The wall permeated the dark energy running through the Arcana's entrails, reinforced by that power created a shield many times stronger than any barrier created by a high-class shinigami.

_It won't be enough_.

The Getsuga Tenshō fired by Kurosaki Isshin left pure decimation in its path.

_This'll definitely hurt._

Wakatsuki, Urahara, and Yoruichi watched from above as the Getsuga Tenshō broke through the barrier placed between the two and engulfed the surrounding area.

Kazumasa had been forced to undo the binds on Miho and took her from the forest before the wave of energy destroyed the forest. He reappeared with Miho in his arms in a cloud of dark smoke far from the scene where neither of them would be seen.

"I can't sense him," whispered Miho shakily.

Kazumasa was having trouble sensing him as well. He couldn't bring himself to confirm or deny it. He strained his eyes to see beyond the smoke rising from the rubble.

"He used kidō," breathed Kurosaki as he joined the others in the air. "Did you forget something?"

Wakatsuki scanned the debris. "We need to search for his body. I'll explain everything after we confirmed he's dead."

Wakatsuki was the first to descend; followed closely was Urahara and then Yoruichi and Kurosaki. A wave of heat met them on ground. The temperature rose with every ticking second and the smell of blood and smoke filled their nostrils.

"No."

The smoke cleared instantaneously with a harsh gust of wind and revealed a familiarly terrorizing face. The new male stood unscathed, shielding a pain-stricken Nagata.

He had the same proud face as Death, but his features were softer and his hair was a fiery red. He dressed in clothes one would expect from a gaudy rock star on tour would wear—tall boots, a stripped t-shirt, a belt with a buckle that read, "Eat This," and a long coat.

"Touma," seethed Wakatsuki.

"Didn't I tell you _not _to touch a single strand on Enishi's head?" said Touma irately. "You know the consequences, no?"

Wakatsuki prepared his sword, eyeing Death suspiciously. "No matter, it's practically four against one."

"Don't look at me that way, asshole!" shouted Nagata. "I didn't call him here!"

"That's right," admitted Touma with a firm nod as a light blush spread across his cheeks. "Nii-sama didn't call me here. I _stalked_ him here."

"Don't blush!"

Touma blithely ignored Nagata's complaint, confronting the ex-shinigami with unwavering determination before relaxing. "We're gonna bounce, ya dig?"

"Over my dead body." Wakatsuki swung his sword vertically, sending needles flying in their direction.

The steel spikes melted before they reached as if there was an invisible layer of heat in the surrounding area. While the action distracted them, Touma seized Nagata and disappeared with him.

Urahara dug through his pocket to retrieve the handheld device used to track the Arcana, but saw nothing registering in the radar before it was destroyed in his hands by a sudden surge of heat.

A dark silence set in amongst them.

Touma made a pit stop in front of Fortune and half of the Lovers. He gestured crudely, unhappy with their presence. "Go back into hiding. I'll take care of my brother." He disappeared shortly without courteously awaiting complaints or answers.

He didn't care for them.

* * *

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" asked Ichigo doubtfully for the thousandth time.

They had arrived to Kyoto safely and left the station to grab something to eat after Haruka refused to eat the bento because she hated the taste. She spent the last two hours taking a nap after growing irritably bored. She wanted to head straight into the nearest video game store to rebuy a PSP and her favorite zombie game to cool the pent up anxiety of having spent over three hours without doing anything, but Ichigo talked her into heading into one of the shopping districts fast food restaurants. He noticed she hardly touched her food as she focused on his.

It turned out she didn't like her order. He traded with her after complaining.

Once they finished eating, they took a bus toward one of the tourist-oriented prefectures in Kyoto where the Wakatsuki ryokan was located. Since then, about an hour had passed and they had yet to reach their destination.

Haruka stopped in the middle of the sidewalk before they reached the overpass, watching the natives flock toward the merchant shops in the far end of the street. There were many ryokan situated in the area and plenty of young women in various uniforms running around doing errands.

Ichigo looked around skeptically. "Is it around here?"

Haruka pointed forward to a path that linked to the main street leading down a long stairway and the riverbank. Beyond that, he spotted a large traditional inn with festive lanterns decorating the underside of the sign.

"That's pretty far."

"I'm thirsty again."

Ichigo pulled out one of the bottled beverages from inside and handed it to her. She stared at it awkwardly before lifting her eyes to him. "Open it for me," she muttered, letting the sleeves of the sweater fall over her hands. "Please."

He twisted the cap off and placed it next to her face. She grabbed it and took a large gulp of the grape juice.

He walked forward and found a wooden bench sitting before the overpass among a stretch of trees. He gestured for her to sit. "You should sit down and catch your breath."

Haruka plopped down under the shade of cherry tree and twisted the cap back over her drink. "There used to be a bus that took you to the end of the overpass. The walk from there to the inn was less than a block."

"Do you come here often?"

"Not since we moved to Karakura Town."

"How long have you been in Karakura anyway?"

"Five years, I think."

"Ahh."

He saw a tiny smile grace her lips. She missed the town and the people.

Ichigo and Haruka continued the trek to the ryokan peacefully after a lengthy resting period and watched as girls in dark pink kimono bustled to and from the entrance hall where they stood quite awkwardly.

A male in a dark blue haori appeared to greet them. "Room for one?"

Haruka stepped forward calmly. "I want to talk to Tsukino Atsuko," she said lowly. "I'm Wakatsuki Haruka, her granddaughter."

"Tsukino-san's granddaughter?"

"Kato-san!"

Kato jumped at the shrill sound of a woman's voice and from the adjacent room emerged a dignified looking woman in her later stages of age wearing a moss green kimono. She wore her silver hair tied into a tight bun that managed to smooth out a few of her wrinkles and had dark brown eyes. She cast a glance in the teenagers' direction before tearing it away.

"Kato-san, I have—" Her gaze snapped back to the entrance, eyes fixed on Haruka's fragile form. "Haruka? Is that you?"

Haruka pushed the hood off her messy golden locks and nodded. "Sorry about dropping in, but we need a place to stay."

Tsukino Atsuko shot an unnerving glare at Ichigo and then softened at the sight of her granddaughter. "You came in the middle of crunch season; do you honestly expect me to have a room vacant for my teenage granddaughter, who probably ran off with the first male to show interest?"

There it was, the Tsukino charm.

Haruka forced a toothy smile. "Yes."

"Wrong. I don't. So you can forget about it!"

Ichigo stood there wordlessly, taken aback.

"…" The smile disappeared from her face. "He's not my boyfriend," she clarified. "Dad hired him to take care of me."

Tsukino straightened out with refreshing business-like smile. "Kato-san, take them to the Chrysanthemum Room. It should be vacant."

"Are you sure, Tsukino-san?"

The older woman smiled evilly. "If I wasn't sure, I would have thrown them out of here, now wouldn't I?"

There was a threatening air around her.

Kato had no choice but to lead them to the Chrysanthemum Room and he did so quietly.

"I can see why you didn't want to come here," murmured Ichigo as the followed Kato down the long corridor. "Is she always like that?"

Haruka nodded. "We need to stay as quiet as possible. Don't answer any of her questions and never hint at anything strange. She could have us booted out of the ryokan in a heartbeat."

Kato halted in front of the last doors in the corridor and slid them open. He gestured them inside, presenting the gargantuan room as the Chrysanthemum Room before proceeding to give them a tour until Haruka stopped him.

"I know where everything is."

He apologized repeatedly before excusing himself.

Ichigo wandered around the first room, opening doors and looking into all the linking rooms, until he came across the last room to see a person he wished he hadn't. He nearly shut the shoji screens again and escorted Haruka out when the girl appeared at his side to see their uninvited guests.

Nagata waved lazily with a pained grin on his face as a strange redhead wrapped gauze around his shoulder. "Hey kids, guess I beat you here."

"Weren't you supposed to come later?" said Ichigo, annoyed.

"Shit got weird. I had to go for immediate transfer."

"He was nearly killed by Kurosaki Isshin," replied the stranger.

"My dad?"

"Sounds 'bout right."

Haruka looked from the redhead to Nagata skeptically before fixing her stare on the strange man. "Who are you?"

"Touma," he introduced laxly. "I'm Enishi's brother."

"It's Taishi! Taishi!" corrected Nagata irately. "Didn't I tell you that a thousand times already?"

"Are you even allowed to have one of those?" deadpanned Haruka, earning a glare from both males.

"He's another Arcana?" questioned Ichigo, dreading this new development.

"I'll tell you if you guess which one I am," stated Touma in a serious tone.

_Is he stupid?_

"Devil."

Touma glared at Haruka. "Bitch."

"I was right, wasn't I?"

"Got to hand it to you, your intuition is top notch these days," eased Nagata, amused.

Ichigo watched as the banter continued between them. _Why the hell are they talking so normally?_

* * *

[**1**] Chikasumi no Tate, "Blood Mist Shield"

[**2**] Nake, "Scream"

[**3**] Kokushibyou, "Black Death"

[**4**] Ekibyou, "Epidemic"

[**5**] Shibari, "Binding"

[**6**] Orosu, "[to] Launch"

[**7**] Bakudō #81: Dankū, "Way of Binding: Splitting Void"

[**8**] L'Amoureux, "The Lovers"

* * *

_**Thanks to**: ruler of dragons for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

You can see I am very dedicated when I want to when I stay up until 5:30am to leave post a chapter.

It is literally half off the press. And while I would like to run my mouth and answer all my PMs (which I planned to do when I was finishing this, but it proved to be a large distraction and I ended up saving my replies in notepad).

Definitely had other chapters planned to go up today (Ink and Nightshade), but you know, it didn't happen. I learned a lesson, though-never schedule to chapters back-to-back on the day before and after your final. I also traded in writing Silent Calamity for this...and while I should feel bad...I kinda don't. That fight was so much fun to write.

There was also not a lot of Ichigo/Haruka. Nagata needed his spotlight...and now, there's a new character. I'm sorry, he's going to be a total freak. (Okay, I'm not sorry at all).

In the next chapter, which I will be working on on Tuesday will feature Keigo and Arashi and definitely the start of Ichigo/Haruka development, also some very disturbing brother-complex horror stories. :D

I talked enough. MUST. SLEEP. NOW.

Thank you for reading!

**Edit**: After waking up, refreshed, I decided to stop by and tell everyone that I am going to post character profiles of all my OCs in my journal. The entries will be public and I am going to be hosting a Q&A for each character. I invite all my readers to ask any questions about any character that may spark after reading their profiles and I will answer them as spoiler-free as possible. I will add the questions and answers to the entry of each character! Cool? So, don't be shy! Thus far, I only have entries for Haruka, Arashi, and in a few minutes, Nagata.


	12. Trigger

**Chapter Eleven, **"Trigger"

* * *

"Have you found your other half?" Touma started curiously, tilting his head to the side as he cast a wayward glance in Haruka's direction. The quiet girl was sitting in front of her teenage bodyguard playing cat's cradle. "Is she _the one_?"

Nagata lay splayed over the open-sided verandah of their luxurious accommodations, attempting to remain immobile until the temporary healing spells used by his brother settled. Even so, he figured it wouldn't be long before something reopened with Touma bombarding him with unnecessary questions, acting like the jealous girlfriend he never had.

"Hell no."

"Well, I don't sense power from that girl."

A snobbish look crossed his brother's expression.

"She doesn't have power," grumbled Nagata, bored. "She has something better. I doubt I would've kept her alive otherwise."

"I don't sense any redeeming qualities from that girl."

Nagata watched Touma continue his censure, annoyed. The idiot Devil had spent the past hour glaring at the back of Haruka's head, thinking it was a better pastime after her grandmother ordered him not to hit on her waitresses—not that it stopped him from hitting on her afterward. Atsuko wasn't the least bit pleased at the fact that the two were staying in her ryokan as well, throwing a fit at the thought that either one of the new guests could be her granddaughter's real _delinquent_ boyfriend. She threatened to kick everyone out—even went as far as ordering Kato to place their bags at the front door and had the four of them lined up by the reception area—until Haruka and Death clarified she was getting way over her head. Nagata swore to asexuality and Touma embarrassingly listed reasons as to why he would not be caught dead dating a girl like her, which pleased Atsuko and granted them access to their original lodgings.

It was obvious then that Touma couldn't live in a world with Haruka in it. The loud bells rung in his head in warning, in the near future, Touma and Haruka were bound to become each other's bane. Haruka might have been quiet now, but when he became her personal plague, she would show her claws and it won't be pretty.

"She doesn't have any," said Death after a lengthy silence, irritated by his own train of thought.

"Why is she still alive?" cried Touma outrageously.

Haruka turned to face the two. "Nobody asked him to revive me."

"Haruka, it's your turn," said Ichigo, deciding it was best to stay out of the conversation. For the first time in his life, he had come to the conclusion that staying out of Nagata's plans might keep him alive much longer.

"You hear that!" shouted Touma. "She practically admitted she doesn't want to be alive! Why don't we just get it over with and kill her? And just to be fair, we can kill carrot top, too!"

"Leave me outta this!" snapped Ichigo noisily.

"I am trying to be nice here! Nobody is ever nice these days!"

"You need to rethink your perceptions of kindness," said Haruka tonelessly. "It's not healthy to want to kill someone under any circumstances."

"Shove off! Nobody asked you!"

"Killing these two is off limits," warned Nagata, sitting up in time to stop Ichigo from retaliating in his charge's defense. "Understand?"

Touma looked shocked. "What?"

"You heard me."

"But—"

"Just fuck off, Touma!" snapped Nagata.

Haruka stared at Death without batting an eyelash. She realized that there was something oddly brotherly about him and acknowledged it was a slightly disturbing notion. She half-expected him to continue being as malicious as he always was, but she'd have to be deaf and blind not to have noticed the abrupt change in his demeanor. It might have been the fact that he was supervising a younger, childish, more peculiar version of himself or it could have had something to do with what happened in the morning. Something was different. Nagata didn't have to say it aloud, he didn't even have to think it—she felt it.

"I'm bored," mumbled Haruka, disappointed with the kiddie game Ichigo proposed to keep her busy for the rest of the afternoon.

"Hey, girl," called Touma, suddenly tame. Haruka turned to him with quirked eyebrows, black faced. "What are you?"

"…A girl?"

Nagata twisted his hand in a circle, gesturing crudely. "You learn to be a tad more specific when asking her questions with time, right Kurosaki?"

Ichigo sat right through that one. He remained pretty adamant with involving himself with all the budding mysteries, at least until he managed to wrap his head around them, but that sort of thing would remain nonexistent so long as Nagata persisted with his streak of dishonesty.

"In the metaphysical, what are you?" rephrased Touma, voice stricken with exasperation.

"I don't know what that means."

"He meant supernaturally," explained Ichigo, waiting for Haruka to pinch the brightly colored thread with both thumb and index finger.

"Oh." Haruka didn't think long about her response. "Last time I checked, human."

_Last time I checked…! _Nagata snorted.

"You're not human, filthy liar," accused Touma exaggeratedly. "How the fuck can a mere human nobody guess what tarot I—" He paused abruptly, having to repeat his own words in his head. "I answered my own question, didn't I?"

The redhead pushed his body off the ground and sauntered towards Haruka in the adjacent room, alerting Ichigo of his questionable intentions. Their cat's cradle was cast aside for a moment as he crouched down in front of the sickly teenager, staring her straight in the eyes.

Haruka didn't budge, didn't even blink. She didn't even feel an inch of fear for the powerful entity.

"Human nobody's serve a better purpose in this life and you've got plenty of the symptoms going on," he started analytically. "You're one of us, aren't you?"

"Wrong," called Nagata from the next room. "I would have been able to read her number."

"No, I think she's fucking with us." The atmosphere suddenly intensified as a cruel smile spread across his lips. "Which one are you? We're missing quite a large number. I'd peg you for Ageha, but he's still alive and he's an Original, you'd have to look exactly like he did at your age. The Magician is dead and incarnation is out of the question, that and you're actually a girl." He shot Ichigo a suspicious glance. "As far as we know, that is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Psychological damage to my virgins is also prohibited!"

A snigger followed the ten-second silence, muffled by the hand over the Devil's mouth.

"Shut up!" snarled Ichigo, face reddened.

Haruka didn't say anything. Her eyes were wavering and there was a throbbing pain erupting from her temples. It was faint, easy to ignore, but it was growing in intensity, as was the ambience. For a moment, along with the minutes ticking by quickly, she felt as though she was in a trance.

Touma turned his full attention to her immediately, avoiding the urge to sink into hysteria after Nagata's words. He fought on bravely and conquered. "You're the Fool."

"Nagisa needs to allow it."

"The Fool is the only Arcana that can hide its number."

Death lifted himself onto a seat, ready to argue with his brother's deduction with all the concrete evidence he had ever gathered. "The Fool is a gift. It hasn't existed since the First Cycle when Nagisa gave Shima his Arcana."

"What if Nagisa did allow it? She just didn't tell anyone. You know how she is. She's worse than you are in this sort of situations, always cryptic."

"Nagisa wouldn't allow it. There's no point in using The Fool."

"You are making this incredibly difficult for me, nii-sama. If she is not an Arcana and she is not The Fool, what is she? She can sense us, track us, and reveal our identities. She functions the same way that geek's radar worked. It's like she's one of Kouyou's tracking cards."

Nagata grunted as he rose to his feet. He slapped his brother over the head as he passed. "We're going to get supplies now. Let's go."

Touma snarled angrily and jumped to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine!"

Once the door clattered shut, Haruka shook her head slightly and slouched with a relieved sigh. Her head swooned, eyes blackened at the edges as she felt momentary weakness and reached for the bottle of pills in her sweater pocket. She quickly took her next dose with a swig of water, fingers trembling.

"Is something wrong Wakatsuki?"

Haruka carefully untangled the string from Ichigo's fingers, feeling the bumps of callouses on his hand with the slight brush of hers against his palm. "I know I'm not human," she admitted softly, "but I know I'm not one of them."

* * *

Nagata cringed at the string of pain twisting over his wounded shoulder. He patted the surface with a grunt as he led the way down the populated venue with Touma half a step behind him, grumbling vulgarly.

Admittedly, not everything he planned upon awakening was working out properly thanks to Haruka proving his initial perceptions wrong. She was supposed to be the incarnation of peace, but she underwent changes by day. That morning, there was something different about her, but he ignored it by instinct.

"Touma."

Touma lifted his eyes from his scuffed boots. "Eh?"

"You need to cut back on the accusations in front of Kurosaki," started Death warningly. "He doesn't need to know much to undergo my training."

Devil frowned disapprovingly. "Why bother?"

"I plan to give Soul Society a fair advantage. I suspect he would side with them." He looked side to side down the street where the venue split into residencies and a row of shops. "He doesn't have powers and I can't guarantee I can return them to him without having to create a time limit."

"What do you intend to do?"

"You don't need to know yet. You just need to follow orders and avoid being caught. Wakatsuki won't rest until he cuts you out of the picture."

Touma laughed aloud. "Not much to be worried about. He doesn't know the nature of my power, nor has he fought me on multiple occasions. All he remembers was the brat from the First Cycle. We can gang up on him easily. He'll regret the day he decided to dutifully take on his mission."

"Listen up, I won't be saying this twice," snapped Nagata. "Strength is gathering the Fifth Cycle. Our job is to give him the pleasure of leading his temporary cult unless Haruka's life is jeopardized. Haruka can't die until we find Nagisa's host."

"Why do we need the brat anyway?"

"I believe she's a sort of _trigger_."

"…Trigger? I've never heard of this."

"Have you been observing recent awakenings?"

The silence nearly pushed Death into choking his younger brother to death, who must have been too preoccupied plucking cherries and travelling from nightclub to nightclub in whatever foreign country he had established himself in temporarily to pay attention to pressing matters concerning their comrades.

"I started paying attention around the time you reawakened…and then, I stopped," answered Touma shamelessly.

He was cursed to high heaven and back in a single breath, in the middle of the tightly packed market, causing one of the most frightening scenes witnessed by this lot of useless country bumpkins. Nagata caught his breath shortly, pushing his hand over his head as he watched Touma's face grow progressively depressed with every quiver of his lip.

"I d-don't care about anyone else!" cried Touma in a cross between fury and melancholy. "You're the one that dies and never visits me! What kind of asshole are you? I'm your biological brother. We share blood! We shared everything as kids, we were even in the—"

Nagata grabbed him by the ear and dragged him as far away from the scene possible where they could talk without hundreds of gossip ready individuals prepared to distort a peculiar man's personal issues as a lover's spat with the boyfriend that dumped him recently and fled to the country. He shoved him when they reached an empty street.

"Enough bullshit."

Devil stayed quiet with a slight pout like a child scorned by his mother.

"You will use Kouyou's Tracker to view the next chain of awakenings, understand?" ordered Death simply. "Haruka has unconsciously triggered the awakenings of Hanged Man, Empress, and Chariot—in that order. Why? She made contact with them, just enough time was shared between them for her to reveal their number, thus triggering the curse to spread and reawaken the Arcana. Distance, conversations, conscious understanding—none of that matters—Haruka only needs to be present when her ability reaches the slumbering Arcana. It tangles with their spiritual inclination because that spreads through their body automatically, making it as easy as picking locks off an ancient door."

Touma turned serious. "So, she has the ability to trigger an Arcana's awakening?"

"Isn't that what I finished saying, jackass? She triggered mine when I was younger." Nagata vividly recalled the moment he had seen the tiny girl standing by her servant's side across the street. He had been covered in blood after a rough fight and felt he might have started hallucinating when an older male in a bowler hat appeared to warn him of his being. "She revealed my number, making it easy for Kouyou to discover my host. The Hierophant suppressed my awakening by giving me various warnings I unconsciously followed until I saw Haruka for a second time in the shopping district. I was overcome by a disturbingly dark aura that threatened to consume me when Kouyou appeared to warn me one final time. Haruka had initiated my stalled awakening, forcing it to go into overdrive, which led to my quick demise."

He had observed what the other hosts underwent the moment they encountered her. Even the present members of the Arcana had the essence of that sickly child wired into their abilities like a second skin. She provoked them and then stayed with them. There was no other way to describe what she did to everyone but a trigger.

"There are others that hadn't met her."

"Everyone has made contact with Haruka one way or another, at least those belonging to this cycle," he explained. "Haruka and the Priestess attended the same preschool. Sugihara made contact before the Wakatsuki moved to Karakura Town, somewhere in the fashion district when Haruka went shopping with her mother. Strength shared the womb with her, it's only natural he would be prompted to a quick arising. The Lovers don't count. They were here since the previous cycle. Hanged Man, Empress, and Chariot wouldn't be awakening otherwise."

"Do they have different times?"

Death nodded and tugged out a violet, rune-covered tarot and switched it upside between them to face the skeletal being representing his Arcana. He slid a finger over the surface causing the image to distort like ripples of water to reveal a list of names, dates, and two timeframes.

"Sugihara Yū was set to die six years from now where he drowns at sea after a boating accident. He died a year ago—suicide." Touma swallowed the information in silence. "The only active Arcana that should be awake now are Devil, Hermit, Hierophant, Strength, and Lovers. There should be five (counting the Lovers as one). We are currently ten plus three. There will be thirteen of us before we know it and that's when shit will get hard for us."

"Let's kill her. We can't have her fucking up nature's course."

"There might be a reason for her existence. There has never been a _Trigger_ in any of the previous cycles," remarked Nagata thoughtfully. "Her existence perplexes me. I am not sure what she represents, but if anything, she has to be the Trigger."

An idea flitted through his mind.

"It's Nagisa," he concluded. "Nagisa had to do this."

"Nagisa is the only one that could bestow that kinda power, you're right, but what reason would she have for—_oh shit,_ I just remembered." Touma brightened instantly, looking like a puppy wagging his tail in excitement. "After you were killed last cycle, she made an agreement with Wakatsuki. He wasn't allowed to step in ten meters to your next host and was supposed to do everything in his power to keep you from awakening. Kouyou asked her to reconsider relinquishing our strongest asset, but she looked quite willing…"

Touma remembered the maroon colored blood crusted along Nagisa's skin, splattered against bone shaded hair, and clothes. White lashes hooded the still look in her glassy golden eyes. Beyond her field of vision sat the destruction created by Death. An entire city had been wiped off the face of the planet and neighboring cities suffered dangerous catastrophes during his rampage. Everything surrounding the vast emptiness was an overpowering darkness and the debris of all the blown off buildings. Bodies of shinigami and Arcana soldiers were scattered everywhere. He had sensed his end drawing near and had rushed head first into battle, believing he could stall the fight long enough to meet Nagisa once more.

"_Touma._"

He was considered a boy by her standards (meaning it was law within her shoddy kingdom). He grew a few inches since they last met, but not enough to say he had grown taller than she was in the past century. He sported the same shade of fiery red hair, only a few inches longer so it sagged around his cheekbones and had the same bright blue eyes shared by everyone in his family. He was not allowed to become like them. Nagisa had put a ban on the mere thought. He was not fit for battle, even if the destructive nature of his power matched the physical strength of Death himself.

"_Yeah._"

Nagisa stepped in front of him and touched his face as a peaceful smile graced her lips. "_I made contact with Wakatsuki and requested an agreement._"

Touma's eyes widened, heart stopping. "_What?_"

"_We won't have to watch him die again. I promise._"

"_What are you planning to do?_"

"_Nagisa-sama._"

Nagisa turned in time to watch Kouyou appear in a cloud of darkness. She looked back to Touma with that same portentous smile before she leaned that slight distance before them to kiss his forehead. "_Return to Ageha's dimension, Touma, but please stay safe._"

In a split second, Wakatsuki Hiko arrived with two captain-class shinigami at his side in the center of the wasteland. Time beyond the destruction had been frozen by her to avoid alerting the human populace. Once they reached their agreement, Nagisa agreed to restore all their wrongs.

Kouyou swept toward them first. Nagisa was about to turn when Touma latched onto her wrist.

"_I know you're doing something stupid!_"

Her gaze softened. "_I don't know how else to prove we aren't threats to Soul Society. I am running out of options. I can't have my word broken because of Enishi's savagery. So, I will give them what they want the most._"

He didn't need to hear it from her directly. The look in her eyes gave it away.

Nagisa planned to give him Death.

"_You can't do this to Enishi!_"

"_Wrong._" She did not face him, but he could see her smile falter as she spoke her next words. "_Death belongs to me. I can do with his life as I see fit._"

With a slight tug, Nagisa freed her hand from his hold and disappeared to join Kouyou were the agreement was formed and Death's awakening would be put in an automatic stall for the rest of the cycles. She swore to find measures that would keep him from awakening ever again to cause mayhem on Soul Society, whom he despised the most, through the years. If he upheld his end of the bargain, she would keep the Arcana peaceful, if not…

"…_I will fight for them and when I do, we won't be the one's seizing to exist._"

"…Maybe this is all a ploy for revenge," considered Touma dubiously.

"Nagisa wouldn't know revenge if it punched her in the face," stated Nagata. "If she gave Haruka the ability to trigger awakenings, shouldn't she have been aiming elsewhere? My coming was because of a coincidental run-in."

"What if it's not coincidental at all? What if she's moving all the chess pieces to her advantage wherever she is as we speak and she's using Haruka to do her dirty work?"

It only took a smidgen of silence to kick-start a maelstrom.

"That bitch set us up! She's trying to fuck everything over!" Death grew furious. "I'm going to find her host and fucking murder it, and then proceed to murder her! She doesn't get to have the revenge all to herself! I've been at this for hundreds of years and they still managed to kill me! How the fuck can that useless hippie have the time to create an elaborate plan to fuck shit over and do it with that useless slab of meat?"

"She came about this quite skillfully. Create an absolute treaty and use someone close to break it. That makes war inevitable. It means—"

He took a calming breath. "Nagisa is going to awaken faster than normal."

Death stormed away fulminating, kicking anything standing in his way before barking out orders for Touma to find the nearest mall in the city for them to gather supplies to keep both Ichigo and Haruka entertained long enough to complete the ex-shinigami's training.

* * *

Nagata and Touma returned later that day after Ichigo and Haruka had finished eating dinner. During the last few hours, Ichigo watched the younger girl loll around the floor, bored out of her mind. There weren't any paintbrushes or canvases, her PSP, iPod, and mobile phone were gone, and there wasn't a board game in existence that could keep her entertained longer than five minutes. She couldn't even manage to take the nap he suggested when she started growing irritated because she was so bored.

The sight of the returning Arcana barely fazed her as she rolled onto her shoulder, bothered by their noisy entrance. Both men bustled into the room, looking twenty times more annoyed than usual, with about a dozen bags in each arm. It seemed as though they were arguing underneath their breath when Nagata suddenly kicked Touma in the back and sent him barreling into the nearest wall.

Touma took a sharp breath. "What was that for?"

"Stop bitching!"

"I'm worried!" he cried noisily. "Why does that useless girl get a bodyguard and you don't? You're the one that dies—!"

Nagata punched his brother in the nose, silencing him instantly. "That's because I don't need one!"

Haruka got into a seat and looked towards the discarded bags before turning back to the quarrelling siblings going on and on about death and how worrisome it would be to if Death died during this cycle. She moved further away from the scene to take a seat beside an equally skeptical Ichigo.

"Shouldn't you stop them?" she asked curiously.

"Better not," answered Ichigo.

Death gave Devil another stomp over the shoulder before turning to his teenage charges with a grin. "I've bought supplies."

"Supplies?"

Nagata grabbed a couple bags and tossed them into their direction. "New clothes."

Haruka dug through a sparkling bag and pulled out a scanty blouse that looked more like a bra than a shirt. There were plenty of mini-skirts, garter belts, stockings, and cropped shirts.

"What is this?"

"I picked them out," said Touma quite smugly. "Wait until you see the dresses."

"…I don't like these."

"Don't care! You're going to wear them anyway!"

"I'm not wearing these either," stated Ichigo suddenly, shoving a bright red shirt back into the bag and thrusting it out of the way.

"What's wrong with them? They were the coolest shirts they had!"

Haruka leaned forward. "Can I see?"

Ichigo pushed the bag further out of reach. "Don't."

Nagata returned from digging through the many bags and handed each of them a new mobile phone. Haruka received a red one and Ichigo got the same model in black.

"We're using these temporarily. All phone numbers are already saved in your contact list," he explained simply, showing them the green model in his pocket. "If you run into trouble, contact either one of us."

"What do you mean trouble?" questioned Ichigo suspiciously.

"Renegade Arcana roughing you up, y'know?" replied Touma with a crude gestures. "There's more 'f them than us. We've got the stronger members, but there is strength in numbers."

"Can I call my dad?"

"I need to be getting home, Yuzu and Karin will worry."

"I already cleared things up with both your families," stated Nagata. "No phone calls outside the contact list or else."

"…Or else what?"

Out of the same bag in his hand, Death pulled out a freshly packaged PSP and the newest edition of her favorite zombie game. She felt momentary dread pass by her, paralyzing her, understanding well what it meant to be bribed by an expert.

"Behave or I toss these out, understand?"

"Yes."

He stuffed them back into the paper bag and tossed it into her lap. "There a memory card's in there too."

Ichigo looked from Nagata to Haruka, staring a bit longer at her as she excitedly began to open the box to start up her fresh new handheld and begin her adventures as a zombie hunter.

"You're just spoiling her!" started Ichigo, instantly bothered by the glare he received from the girl.

"It's not spoiling," remarked Nagata knowingly.

"What the hell else would it be?"

"…Motivational bribery," he said shamelessly. "I am motivating her to stay out of my hair."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"It doesn't have to; besides, you don't need to get jealous. I'll make sure to keep you busy for the next few days," started Nagata snidely. "You better get a good night's rest. We start early tomorrow."

Death didn't give him enough time to say another word before he practically forced Touma into carrying their bags into the adjacent room and shut the doors behind them.

Haruka spend a greater portion of the night playing her new game, staying unbelievably quiet and a lot more relaxed, before growing exhausted and slipping underneath her futon to rest. She rolled around the blankets until she found a comfortable position and looked up to see the back of Ichigo's head. He decided to sleep early.

Something told her they would regret heading to the Kyoto countryside where most of her childhood memories resided, with not one but two walking dead men that claimed to be related. This wasn't the sort of motley crew that spelled best game of hooky in life, nor did she expect to create the greatest memories with them. In fact, ever since her father hired Ichigo, her mundane schedule had been thrown in a loop and as interesting as it would be to go on some extraordinary adventure, she'd rather be stuck in bed clinging to life and playing video games were she could control the direction of following events.

She hated not knowing what to expect out of life. She hated not knowing whether Nagata will let her die permanently when her time came again.

She had a bad feeling, and after exploring the emotion for an entire hour, she wondered if she was worried about what was going to happen there…

Maybe it was something else.

* * *

_Can you hear my voice?_

Asano Keigo halted abruptly as Yamaguchi Tomo prattled on about the release of a new CD from a band they liked. He didn't know Tomo would become such a diehard fan of music when he lent her a couple disks after Ichigo was fed up of having to listen to her talk.

"...And the—" The redhead paused, whirling around to face her companion. "Keigo."

He had, without a doubt, heard a voice whisper into his ear. A tingling sensation traveled down his spine, assuring him that he had indeed heard something.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said quickly and rushed to catch up.

It was too early to question his sanity, but hearing unknown voices was definitely a telltale sign that something was off.

Keigo and Tomo split up when they reached the next crossroads. She was headed to Urahara Shōten, grumbling underneath her breath while scratching the back of her head, "Ah, he's gonna kill me if I'm late again." To his knowledge, Yamaguchi Tomo had occasionally stayed in that strange little shop, but her home was elsewhere and she didn't live alone. Nobody really talked about her roommate, but Ichigo, Orihime, Ishida, and Chad secretly knew who it was. Somehow, it was never disclosed and nobody questioned it.

Sometimes it was better not to know. At least, that's what he thought.

But, then there were times when you really have no choice, he realized the notion quite belatedly.

Keigo had crossed into the next street where he could see his home from the slight distance when he noticed the youngest Wakatsuki twin standing against the wall, looking mildly interested in the weather while wearing a sly grin on his face. He looked out of place, but it was more like something about him was odd. He couldn't exactly say much about Wakatsuki Arashi, as he knew him mostly through rumor. He was popular among the women, many of which were presidents of one of his many fan clubs, and he sauntered the school hall with a fake saccharine smile that made them crazy, but there was obviously something terrible underneath the mask he sported.

Maybe it was just him, but a nasty feeling twisted at the pit of her stomach when he saw the younger student's face.

"Hello," he greeted casually, leaving his place against the wall. "We've never met face-to-face; though I am sure you've heard of me. I'm an acquaintance of Arisawa-senpai."

"Yeah," uttered Keigo nervously. "You're Wakatsuki's brother. Ichigo told me."

"Yup," chirped Arashi, halting in front of him. "Well, I really don't have time to waste, so I'll make this quick."

A flurry of questions crossed Keigo's mind in that instant, but what Arashi said literally left him speechless.

"You're going to die soon."

Arashi's words were passive and easy, almost as if he was telling him a lighthearted story that had nothing do to with death.

Baffled, Keigo stared at him strangely. "…What?"

"I'm not threatening you or anything. I'm just telling you that your time's up in this world. You've got a brighter future ahead of you." Arashi's smile only brightened, though his tone changed slightly after he found himself lying about the _livelier_ future he promised—literally, at least. "Well, it'll take you a bit, but don't worry, Asano-senpai, I'll take care of you."

"Uhhh…Wakatsuki-san, are you feeling all right?"

Keigo couldn't exactly shake the confusion. The emotion was terribly intrusive. He couldn't even joke about the situation or change the subject to something a little less strange.

"Yes," he said lightly, "but you won't be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Arashi vanished right before his eyes in a dust of black smoke, leaving his senior more than a little perplexed. He quickly drew his mobile from his pocket and dialed the first person that came to mind.

"Keigo!" cried Tomo from the other line immediately. "I just saw you off. Did something happen?"

"I'm not sure what happened," he admitted, drawing a mental blank.

As far as he had known, the Wakatsuki were normal until Arashi pulled that disappearing act in front of him and told him that he was going to die. Now, he wasn't sure what to think. Should he believe him and start—_no_, he already believed him. In fact, the short silence between Tomo's next reply was instantly filled by his worry.

"Wakatsuki just said I'm going to die!"

"Wakatsuki wasn't at school today."

"That's not the point! He said I was going to die!"

Many might probably advise him not to freak out in the middle of the street, save himself the incredulous glances he received from the neighbors crossing the street as they headed towards the nearest convenience store down the street corner.

"I don't want to die!"

"He?" inquired Tomo thoughtfully. "You mean the boy! _Oh!_ Should I beat him up?"

"Beat him up, Tomo?" he snapped. "You can't just beat someone up!"

"I bet I could snap that twig like a twig."

"That doesn't sound right at all!"

"Nobody lets me do anything any—" In a sudden flash, the redheaded girl appeared at his side, scaring him shitless and finished where she had left off over the phone, snapping hers shut, "—more!"

"You're supposed to be human—" Keigo shut his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket upon realizing he was still shouting into it. He immediately seized his classmate by the shoulders. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Nobody needs to know if I kill him!"

"Ichigo would get angry!"

"He'll just lecture me!" said Tomo snappishly. "Anyway, this is about you and your death!"

This further upset Keigo. "I shouldn't have called you! You're making everything worse!"

"I'm going to be a problem solver!" Tomo shook out of Keigo's hold and rushed out of sight. "You just stay there!"

"Tomo! Come back here!" he shouted, barreling after the girl with his mind set on the miserable thoughts that rose from his first conversation with Wakatsuki Arashi. "Tomo!"

Tomo swerved her head, turning quite abruptly in the middle of the road with only a second to spare before a loud booming rang in their ears. He caught a fast moving blur in his periphery and with complete disregard of the dangers surrounding him, he sprang forward to shove his classmate out of the way.

The redhead yelped as her back hit the sidewalk hard and her head snapped forward in time to watch as Keigo's body hit the hood of a fast-moving truck. Her eyes grew as large as saucers and the truck screeched noisily as it spun to a dangerous halt, but midway, the driver lost control of his vehicle. It crashed straight through a corner store where dozens of people screamed in devastation.

Tomo jumped to her feet, rushing to the bloodied, cold body of her classmate, unable, for the first time in years, to speak a word. She grabbed his twisted body, feeling fresh blood spilling between her fingertips, breathing unstably.

"Keigo!"

_Can you hear my voice?_

There was a moment in which those words flooded his mind and he very slowly pried open his weary eyes, completely numb to the searing pain erupting throughout his body. He heard it clearly that time. A soothing sound ringing in his ears as the blurred image of Tomo's worrisome expression filled his vision. Their surroundings were noisy, but his attention found its way to a sudden shadow cast over the upper half of his body. He averted his eyes to see an older man standing at his side. He tipped his hat courteously upon realizing he had been spotted and a small smile graced his lips.

_Forgive me, Asano Keigo._

"Don't shut your eyes! I'm going to rush you to the hospital, got it?"

Tomo picked him up in his arms effortlessly, disregarding the horrified glances being cast in her direction when she vanished in front of dozens of frantic individuals without taking precautions.

All nearby streets had been thrown into chaos. There were many wounded in the accident as the corner shop had been packed when the truck crashed straight through the wall.

Wakatsuki Arashi observed the chain of events with a wry smile on his face from the sky. Osaki Miho appeared at his side with a tarot wrapped in lace string in her hand. The sight of the human's distress proved everything had gone as predicted when she changed the fortunes of many up and coming Arcana potentials.

"It's perfect Miho!" said Arashi excitedly, almost squeezing in delight. "Kouyou appeared! That means we did something right!"

"There are more…" The blond girl took in the gruesome sight before her eyes. Many humans were critically wounded, there was blood everywhere, and life was fading wherever she turned. "There will be many more dead."

"Of course," he replied knowingly. "The Hanged Man is a coward. He never dies alone." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "'Course, there's a catch. That's where he'll be getting most of his power."

. . . . .

There were flashing lights above his head, each time brighter than the last.

He was losing consciousness.

Urgent voices rang above him. Doctors in their white lab coats flooded his vision as another bright light was shown directly over his eye.

Something was wrong.

He couldn't feel his body at all.

He was floating higher and higher until he gasped aloud.

Then, he was falling.

Falling through endless darkness.

He felt death push him down to the very core of the strange new world.

…The heart monitor let out a long, alarming sound and everything fell silent in his mind.

. . . . .

Mid conversation, Nagata silenced as his eyes narrowed in complete seriousness. Their late lunch hour immediately turned sour as an unwanted number fixed in his mind. Touma caught on shortly after setting down his half-eaten bowl of rice and glanced in his brother's direction. Haruka felt a dark shudder rake through her body and her hands clasped over her arms as if in an attempt to keep the tremors from dominating her. Everyone felt something. Even without spiritual awareness, Ichigo knew something was wrong.

"Twelve hours," she whispered fretfully. "Twelve hours means the Hanged Man."

"What's going on?" asked Ichigo, looking from Haruka's shaken form and Nagata's solemnity.

"I was just backstabbed, Kurosaki," stated Nagata, dropping his chopsticks over the table and stood abruptly. "I'm going to go pay this asshole a visit. Touma stay here and watch these two until Kouyou arrives to take your place, and then join me." His eyes blazed in Haruka's direction. "Don't you dare speak a word to him about the Hanged Man, I'll break all your arms and legs, got it?"

Haruka swallowed hard and nodded.

"What's happening?" pressed Ichigo, concerned about the dread building up inside him.

Nagata disappeared with a scoff.

"The Arcana hosts are dropping like fleas."

"…Flies," corrected Ichigo, earning a glare from the uncouth redhead.

Another cold shudder wired through her bloodstream and a flush of darkness began to spread beyond the first stifling emotion. The faint headache she had yesterday evening resurfaced at its full intensity.

Haruka growled as her hands shot up to her forehead, startling Touma and Ichigo from their daze. Her breathing started shortening, lungs constricting. She started to sense something in between the waves of pain and neurological dysfunction. She couldn't hear Touma or Ichigo speaking to her, or feel motion in her body apart. Colors in her field of vision flared, brightened in the center and darkened around the edges.

Touma freaked. "What the fuck's wrong with her?"

Ichigo had an arm under Haruka's head as he watched her eyes roll back into her head as she inhaled sharply, body jerking slightly against him.

"It's called a seizure!"

"Holy shit!" cried Touma exaggeratedly. "She looks possessed!"

"Shut up!"

He unconsciously clenched her arm as he waited anxiously for her slight convulsions to subside, wishing that once it had passed, it wouldn't happen again.

Her body had gone rigid, hard to control, a slave to the symptoms of her disease until the throbbing in her head brought her back to the haze clouding her vision. Everything was blurred at first and she didn't recall a thing before coming to the stream of sunlight coming in from the partly opened screen doors.

She felt immediate warmth and took another sharp intake of breath, blinking disoriented as her body was set on the floor gently.

"D-Devil," she called weakly.

"Eh?" Touma had resumed finishing his lunch knowing there was nothing left for him to do but wait until she finished twitching. "What's it?"

"Seven hours," she croaked as her consciousness began to slip. "Seven hours. Th-There's two."

Her body fell limp and Ichigo quickly began to check if she was breathing properly as Ueda had schooled him when he first arrived to the Wakatsuki manor. She was breathing without obstruction and then, he carefully slid her onto her side to rest, only to check again if her airways were functioning as they should.

"What was that supposed to mean?" asked Ichigo after a moment's silence.

"That means we've got to call Enishi an' tell 'im he's got double Arcana awakenings." Touma tugged out a pink mobile from his jacket pocket with a deep frown, getting the feeling Haruka's assumptions weren't wrong when she said there were two new Arcana in the making. "He's gonna throw a bitch fit, I swear."

* * *

_**Thanks**_**_to_**_: ruler of dragons, Aries01xD_, _and RavingSunshine for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Happy New Years! 2012! Yay!

I am not as drunk as I originally planned, but I did have a great strawberry martini! I am absolutely shameless!

I brought you the newest installment of Thirteen, which I hated due to rewrites and overtime editing, but loved it due to the content. I did not plan for Keigo to go in the same chapter he received his warning, nor the second Arcana awakening, so that was totally not some genius chain of events idea that was a part of the original outline. My outline is skeletal. It is very vague. I only know the exact order of certain events. I'm losing it.

The next chapter won't come out as quickly (not because of my absence, but because of content placement). I'll try to get it out sometime in the first two weeks of January, maybe earlier, I don't even know myself sometimes. (I will be playing favorites, so you shouldn't worry about updates slowing with this until I get a new favorite.)

Also, I apologize for not responding to reviews. I was totally out of it. You will hear responses from me this time around!

Thank you for reading! :)

**Edit**: Forgot to add this yesterday because I was a tad woozy, but I'd like to especially thank **ruler of dragons** for being such wonderful support for this story and letting me quote her on "motivational bribery" which she uses on me plenty of times by gifting me art. She's actually drawn Touma and Nagata together and I will have a link to the picture posted on my profile. Please check it out (because it's really great). :) Also, in case I forget to give her thanks later, she also gave me plenty of t-shirt ideas. This makes no sense now, but it will in the following chapters. :)


	13. Dreams and the Wretched

**Chapter Twelve**,"Dreams and the Wretched"

* * *

Wakatsuki Hiko gained two powerful allies after his first fight against Death since the start of the Fifth Cycle and decided, upon receiving remote permission from his direct superior, to divulge information pertinent to Soul Society's most dangerous adversary. There were many things in dire need of elucidation.

Everyone unanimously agreed to return to Urahara Shōten after the fights conclusion where the shop's owner attempted to salvage what remained of the broken radar that had taken him years to perfect. Hiko stood by the entrance of a faintly lit room with Yoruichi and Isshin eager for answers to the torrent of consequential inquiries racing through their minds.

"What are the Arcana?" Yoruichi asked grimly. She had survived her first encounter with few scratches and damaged hands, which was a feat in and of itself. "There shouldn't be anyone outside Soul Society with the ability to use Kidō, but that man put up a Dankū, effortlessly."

"That wasn't Death," said Hiko knowledgably. "Fortune and the male Lovers were in the forest supporting him. It was Tsukamoto Kazumasa who used Kidō; the remains of his tarot were left at the scene."

He drew the charred remains of a violet card with only a portion of The Lovers picture visible from inside the lapels of his shihakusho. He flipped it from side to side, observing it with a critical eye.

"I suppose you can consider these cards as a medium to using the Demon Arts."

"That's impossible," said Yoruichi unfavorably.

"What about his weapon?" Isshin said impatiently. "That axe has the same build as a zanpakutō."

A horrid thought had crossed their minds as evidence supporting their darkest thought continued piling on. It was obvious they wanted the idea to be rejected by whatever was revealed next, but they were faced with a new reality.

"Your implications aren't far off from the truth," confirmed Hiko simply. "The men and women that assembled to create the First Arcana were originally shinigami. They were once trained under the same conditions as any one of us were, and eventually rose in the ranks in Soul Society before either one of us existed. It's safe to say that the original Magician helped mold the Demon Arts passed down through new generations. The zanpakutō they wielded as shinigami changed along with them, but they are still a part of them."

Isshin rubbed his chin, still perplexed. "Shinigami, eh?"

"Yamamoto Genryūsai may have started the Shinōreijutsuin," said Urahara, working diligently at his worktable, "but these individuals are the reason the shinigami world is as it has been for the past two thousand years. The strongest soldiers within the Arcana were powerful captains in their time, some even ranked higher. It is reason they should not be taken lightly."

"How did they become Arcana?" asked Yoruichi, confused.

"They rebelled," answered Hiko. "They eventually bound themselves to the Arcana curse and started their reign of terror in Soul Society until Nagisa put an end to the violence."

"Nagisa?"

"Nagisa is the reason the Arcana exist. She created the curse and took her pick of the best soldiers—brainwashed them—and let Enishi run rampant throughout Seireitei until he nearly destroyed everything. The Arcana looks up to her as a sort of monarch. She is the most reasonable and most intelligent. She is considerably the most dangerous, but she has never fought against Soul Society. Ironic, really, for someone who created a never ending plague on a mere whim."

"A whim?" questioned Isshin, concerned. "And they've been causing this much trouble for centuries?"

"The Arcana once served a greater purpose, but they decided it was beneath them and decided to rebel."

Yoruichi looked baffled. "A greater purpose?"

"Consider them Soul Society's last resort," answered Hiko gravely. "It had been the initial plan to create a line of warriors that stood between all worlds neutrally and judged all potential threats without bias, if there ever came a time in which they deemed a person or anything hazardous to their beliefs, they would awaken to eradicate it."

"Then Soul Society never had any say in their actions?" asked Yoruichi.

"The only say they did have was when they ordered Nagisa to create a different sort of entity with abilities and sheer physical strength that far surpassed shinigami." Hiko relaxed as he leaned into the nearest wall, arms folded over his chest. "At the time, that was an incorrigible feat, but it did not deter her. She created a curse, not knowing what the effects would be and chose twenty others to join her—captains, lieutenants, retirees—she didn't care who they were so long as they were strong and willing."

"Then they rebelled," finished Isshin, not sure whether knowing these people had once been on the shinigami side had started to irritate him. He wondered what could have been their initiative to challenge Soul Society to war and why it was so important to persist even now, a thousand years later. "Now, they are permanent enemies."

"Nagisa never foresaw they would reincarnate after they perished, or that there would be any threats they deemed dangerous enough to reawaken into each cycle." He took a pause as he looked from one serious expression to the next. "She refused to partake in Arcana affairs and, instead, always chose to reason with her army. She has been their weakness since they were created, without her my chances of successfully eradicating them each cycle may have been a little under twelve percent with Housen Enishi on their side."

"He's the one we fought, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"So where is this Nagisa, eh?" asked Isshin, holding his chin pensively. "She'd be of some help now."

"I am unsure of The World's whereabouts, but it is certain she has already awakened into this world," Hiko admitted blithely. "Even if she did show herself to me, we would be in disagreement. I didn't hold up my end of the bargain, so she might be angry."

Before either Yoruichi or Isshin could question him about it, Urahara took a moment to fill them in on the Third Cycle's treaty where she placed Death between them. She swore to keep the Arcana tame so long as he never approached any of Death's hosts and provoke his awakening.

Hiko had yet to understand where he had violated the terms of their treaty, but knew the moment he received that phone call from her that there was no use sitting around for her to show her face to know there was something dark in the works. He sensed something was wrong within the Arcana after the Fourth Cycle, there were many disagreements then which may have fueled the odd behavior now. The Fourth Cycle fell apart easily – none tried to breach Soul Society's walls. He thought they were losing power, that it would be some time before they emerged again.

"It is probable that Nagisa will participate in this previously one-sided war—if she isn't already."

"Already?" questioned Yoruichi.

"Nagisa sets her plans in motion before knowing whether or not she will have to use them."

If his assumptions were correct, the scale between armies was no longer tipped in Soul Society's favor.

"Then, we should focus on locating Nagisa," suggested Urahara, recovering the memory of his tracking devise. "If I create a new model of this device and program it specifically to search for her, we may be able to find her and ask for a more permanent compromise."

"Soul Society has nothing left to offer her."

"No," said Urahara confidently. "There _is _something she won't turn down. It is what she has desired from the very start, wouldn't you agree?"

Hiko's gaze hardened. He knew exactly what the eccentric man was referring to and it might be their last shot at destroying the Arcana, but it came with vast difficulties. It wouldn't be easy getting it approved by his superior.

"I suppose, if there is no avoiding it, I have no choice."

The conversation lulled for a few convenient minutes before Isshin spoke up to break the strange silence.

"You mentioned some ranked higher than the others," he started curiously. "Which of them are they?"

Hiko was a bit surprised he had forgotten. He figured after giving the same speech over hundreds of times made him feel comfortable enough to slack and simply assume they knew the rest. "Ah, yes, those four," he started at ease. "They would be the Housen family: Enishi of the Death Arcana, Touma of the Devil Arcana, Yamato of the Judgment Arcana, and Nagisa of The World Arcana. During their time, they were the strongest spiritually inclined family, captains at their own time and eventually favored by the Spirit King. If they collaborated, the outcome of our survival falls to five percent as we are only aware of Death's battle prowess and abilities."

"Only Death?" said Yoruichi in disbelief.

"Yamato and Nagisa never fought and Touma has a ban put over his abilities. We are only certain of that Nagisa was one of the strongest kidō masters, Touma was an excellent strategist with leveled capabilities, and Yamato helped shape the art of the sword. They had their battle strengths and weaknesses, though I have not encountered them personally in the battlefield, I can't gauge their new abilities."

"That redhead is the one called Touma?" started Yoruichi, waiting for Hiko to nod in confirmation before continuing. "He used his powers when he stopped the Getsuga Tensho and when Kisuke's device exploded."

"Yeah, but we didn't see anything," remarked Isshin. "Could it be possible we can't see his power?"

"That is certainly a possibility. The Star Arcana uses exploding powder almost invisible to the naked eye."

"If the Devil Arcana easily guarded against a Getsuga of that caliber," said Urahara testily, "there is no telling how strong his power will be on the offense."

* * *

Hiko brushed back strands of disheveled blond hair as he tossed his tattered jacket into Fujimoto's arms, returning his greeting with an almost inaudible grumble. He entered his manor languidly. He was unable to think properly after missing the single most opportune moment he could kill Death with ease. Now the shady bastard had an advantage that trumped each of his preset tactics for his confrontation due to the unexpected return of the Devil Arcana.

Touma was a complete mystery to him. Nagisa banned his participation and never divulged information on his Arcana ability. She had been overprotective of the red-haired brat from the start of their wretched existence, hid him away from any radar he created, and for various cycles, he came to realize how scarce his appearance was. The boy appeared in odd cycles during the final hours of the Arcana's termination. He was a boy the last time he had seen him, cowardly standing behind Nagisa's skirts crying his eyes out over his brother's repetitive death. He couldn't believe the brat had ranked as high as his siblings had at one point in time.

He knew nothing about the Devil Arcana, yet the brat had protected himself and Nagata from Isshin's Getsuga Tensho with unmistakable ease. It turned his stomach. If Death at one quarter of his original strength, poisoned and slightly battered, decided to take on the attack head-on in reckless disregard of his body, there was a high probability that Touma's power and ability far surpassed the strongest member of the Arcana.

_Was that why Nagisa forbade his involvement?_

Hiko stopped midway up the staircase upon stopping Ueda carrying a bulk of freshly folded blankets, startling her with his abruptness.

"Welcome home, Wakatsuki-san," she greeted with a slight bow.

"How is Haruka?"

"Ah." Ueda quickly fumbled through her apron pocket and drew a messily folded note she handed to her employer. "I can't seem to get a reading on her and it seems she's broken her mobile and all her electronics. Using GPS was useless."

"Have you contacted Kurosaki?" he asked as he unfolded the suspicious note, irritation rising.

"Yes, he found a similar note in his son's room."

Hiko dropped his eyes to the familiar scribble and read:

_Yo, Hiko-chan, borrowing your kid._

_The sick one, I mean, I hate the other one._

_Love, Death_

_P.S. Buy them a new parent with all that money you make _

_hunting Arcana and with all your fake businesses an' all,_

_you know, the type that's __**around**__._

_They're both spoiled little assholes._

_I have better morals than them._

_P.P.S Tell Kurosaki's daddy to FUCKING relax._

_I'm not a serial killer—not in this life…at least._

The slip of paper crumbled in his fisted hand.

"How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"About a day and a half," said Ueda knowledgably. "I have already sent the remote squad on a full-scale search for the two and managed to ease Kurosaki-san's worries, temporarily, of course."

"Where is Arashi?"

"He's in Haruka's bedroom."

Hiko took on the remaining stairs two at a time and turned towards Haruka's bedroom to find Arashi rummaging through his sister's entire room. There were clothes thrown across the floor, sheets dragged off the mattress, medicine bottles were dropping from a tall dresser, books and sketchbooks fell from their bookshelves, and shining trinkets decorated the ground around the mirror. The teenage boy was currently pushing his hand into a pink bag, mobile in hand, texting leisurely.

"What are you doing?"

Arashi jerked around startled, hand stuffing his mouth with marshmallows he procured from the bag. He chewed quickly and swallowed hard as he pushed a drawer full of Haruka's video games closed.

"Hey dad, what brings you 'round town?" he asked with an innocent wave.

"Trouble," Hiko answered crisply. "Now, what are you doing looking through your sister's things? You know she doesn't like you in here when she's out."

"I was looking for clues," said Arashi coltishly. "I texted and called her all day yesterday and it seems her phone is out of service." He tapped his chin, attempting to look thoughtful. "I saw her at school, but she never came home afterward."

"Haruka is with Kurosaki Ichigo."

The boy smiled as he sauntered across the bedroom, eyes downcast to read the new message blinking on in his screen. He chuckled, replied, and stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket.

"Good to see Haruka getting along with someone," he started with feigned concern. "She hasn't got any friends as school and she gets bullied by that Wakamura girl, too. I found her sweater in the trash bin." He suddenly held his hands over his mouth, looking shocked at his own admittance. "Haruka's going to kill me for telling you this."

Hiko's eyebrows knitted. "Bullied?"

That was the last thing he needed, Haruka falling prey to idiotic children that continued to feed her inability to coexist within society like a normal human being. He had promised the twins' mother that they would stay safe and that he would be the reason why. If Haruka opened her mouth once in a while, he wouldn't have to find out from the third party.

Arashi sprinted out the door in seconds. "I didn't say anything!"

He made a mental note to continue homeschooling Haruka and left his daughter's bedroom. Thoughtlessly he wandered into his office, forgetting about the mess Arashi left in Haruka's bedroom, feeling a strange new darkness looming over Karakura Town's peaceful sky. There must be another awakening, but without Urahara's radar, there was no telling who it was or where he or she would wake.

. . . . .

Arashi's mobile went off as he dashed down the staircase, the shrill ring startled him into smacking straight into the banister. With a groan, he reached into his pocket, expecting it to be Yuka, whom he had been communicating through texts that last half hour, but found "PRIVATE NUMBER" glaring back at him from the glowing screen. Dark eyebrows knitted inquiringly at the caps locked words as the screen reflected in the center of his light hued eyes.

_Hmm…?_

He debated on whether or not to answer. He had a busy schedule since everything had worked out in his favor with Miho's accelerated change of fortune and needed to gather all available vessels to keep the Hanged Man from showing up on any radar until he awakened. With his father holed up in his office, it only guaranteed the risk of being caught and losing another soldier. He needed as many Arcana on his side to further his plans.

The caller could be anyone, and he had a strangely reliable feeling that this was a phone call he should ignore than acknowledge. But he found himself becoming irked by the blaring sign mirrored in his calculating gaze and ultimately took the call.

"Hello?"

"Oi pipsqueak," called the obnoxiously loud voice of Nagata Taishi at his ear. "We've got a date, one second after I hang up; you meet me in Kouyou's abandoned hospital building."

The line went dead before he could agree or disagree.

Perturbed, Arashi gritted his teeth, took in his empty surroundings, and vanished in a vicious swirl of black smoke as he envisioned the rickety old building in his mind's eye.

He arrived just in time—early by twenty milliseconds if he did the math—and sauntered through the moldy office area littered in broken furniture and dark walls, following the strange vibes emerging from further inside. He moved into the adjacent room, a larger place decorated in rows of chairs that sat a few feet from the glass doors that once served as the emergency entrance.

Arashi scoured his surroundings, recognizing the strong vibe of Death's spiritual presence and spotted the blond male sitting comfortably with his back turned towards him.

"You're late!"

"You shouldn't let your energy run rampant Death, any person with the slightest hint of spiritual inclination would be able to pinpoint your location."

"If you weren't so quick with your _fucking_ sermons, you'd realize my energy is held within this and the adjacent room," remarked Nagata disappointedly. You would imagine someone that had been around as long as Arashi was would already be adept at this sort of thing. He jumped onto his feet, dusting off the dirt over the back of his jeans. "Guess I shouldn't have assumed."

Arashi's eyes narrowed. "What do you want from me, traitor?"

Death faced him grimly, fighting the urge to scoff. "I've got a proposition for you," he said, "and it'd recommend accepting it."

"I don't like negotiation."

"You wouldn't." He brought down his foot over the row of seats in front of him and with the slightest spurt of energy sent them and every other flying towards the nearest wall.

Arashi didn't move an inch as chairs flung over his head at high speed crashing noisily behind him and kept his gaze frozen on his adversary's newly donned grin. Dust clouded their surroundings as the man's energy subsided. The ground grumbled beneath their feet ominously.

"Was that supposed to scare me?"

Nagata's savage grin widened. "If I wanted to spook you, you'd be pissing your pants about now."

"Funny."

"You know I hate when you're sarcastic, babe," eased Death. "Just say yes and we can get it over with."

"Yes, of course," said Arashi, eyes idling over the debris as a wry smile snaked over his lips. "So, what do you want from me?"

Nagata stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped closer to where Strength stood by the room's entrance, amused and daunting.

"Easy. I want to join your gay brigade."

"I am not stupid, Death, you would rather get struck by lightning, run over by a massive truck, and have a carnivorous pelican eat your entails than join me. You made this clear to me when you first turned traitor. Don't think I forgot those bruises you've left me or how brainwashed you've left my sister." The shorter boy wouldn't let his resolve falter even if he was standing face to face with the strongest member of the Arcana. The same cynical smile took permanent housing over his lips. "Do not think my judgment is clouded because I am a mere boy."

Nagata glowered. "I wasn't finished talking," he said. "I want to join you, but I haven't given you my conditions."

"Figures you'd be the sort with conditions."

"I'm a very delicate."

"Where is Haruka?"

"What? So you can do her a favor?"

Arashi pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving an exasperated sigh. "I am doing the entire world a favor, and just because you both are so narrow-minded doesn't give you any right to judge my decisions."

There was a sharp flash of emotion in Death's eyes, but the calm countenance never changed. "You're one twisted fuck, aint you?"

"Again, narrow-mindedness," said Strength. "You've known Haruka for a couple weeks; Haruka has been my sister for over sixteen years. I was there when she was diagnosed with all the diseases before there was a doctor smart enough to call it for what it was, NPLSE. You think she enjoys being sick?"

"Don't patronize me, squirt." He shifted his weight, irritation growing. "I know exactly what Haruka is going through with that disease. Who the _fuck _do you think I am? Do I need to show you?"

"Then, why are you so set on protecting her?"

"Because it brings me great pleasure looking at your face when your plans fuck up!" barked Nagata. "I want to see you fail! Don't you fucking get it? The less you succeed, better for me!"

"You are doing this to spite me?"

"So is it working?" he asked, almost proudly.

"We are straying far from the original subject," replied Arashi calmly. "You asked to join my _brigade_, so what are these conditions you mentioned?"

It was obviously working.

Nagata shook his head slowly with a chuckle. "All right, we've got a good ten and a half hours before Asano Keigo becomes the Hanged Man," he said. "Obviously, Haruka's life is off limits to your murderous hands, in fact, you better stop mind fucking her too. Next, you don't complain about shit I don't wanna do. Don't expect me to follow any of your orders. Thirdly, you spar with me right now."

"Now?"

"Would you prefer working for a prick that's weak, or one that is strong?"

Arashi barked out a laugh as he nodded. "Suppose if there's no helping it," he conceded. "Can I set the rules?"

"Sure, why not?"

"No weapons."

Death's raised an eyebrow. "Can't summon?"

Arashi didn't answer, he only continued, "No abilities."

"Now, now, that'd make you a sitting duck. You're no good to me dead."

"Please don't underestimate me."

Nagata shrugged his shoulders and took a number of steps backward to put some space between them.

Arashi took a defensive stance and hardened his expression. Impulse tempted him to make the first strike and he lunged forward, hands fisted to launch a right hook at Nagata. There was a knowing look in his opponent's eyes, glinting and assuring him that he knew the limits of his human capabilities. Arashi wanted to chase that sort of narrow-minded thought from his head. He was not to be taken lightly, with or without his abilities, yet underestimated was what he was used to—not that he minded it.

He shot a right hook at Death, but the taller male deflected the attack with a single tap over his hand, offsetting his footing. Arashi twisted his upper body quickly and jabbed his fist into Nagata's side before he had time to retaliate.

_Shit!_ Nagata gritted his teeth painfully; three of his bottom ribs received a full bruising and the pain rippled upward to curve over his shoulder. _Motherfucking kid._ There was a proud smile on the brat's face.

"You've gotta be shittin' me," he growled. "Your puny human body can't be this strong."

"I've been training in mixed martial arts since I was eight," said Arashi. "I've got a killer punch, eh?"

"Don't get cocky, brat."

Nagata's fist smashed into Arashi's face, forcing him to stumble back as he struggled to balance his weight and stay on his feet. Before he found composure, he met with another hook straight in the jaw, shoving him straight into the ground.

Arashi coughed up saliva, but used his folly to an advantage and swept a leg under Nagata's feet, knocking him over. It helped to acknowledge, Death was a troublesome fighter. They were by far the easiest sort of opponents.

Nagata's back smashed into the floor hard, but he quickly jumped back onto his feet, only to receive a straight jab to his nose. He couldn't smack the brat enough without using the full extent of his power. He proved his point, but he needed to push him to his breaking point. If he fought seriously, he could rearrange his stupid face. The he couldn't shake the thought that he looked exactly like Haruka in every sense of the word—same blue eyes, same nose, and the same gold highlighted brown hair. He had yet to punch him seriously and suspected the fool's twin face was the reason.

Arashi coughed noisily and wiped the corners of his mouth as a wicked smile took his lips.

"You aren't fighting honestly, Death."

"Nobody said this was an honest fight, idiot."

As Strength opened his mouth to retort, an annoying bird-like squawking rang from inside his opponent's back pocket. He pursed his lips disapprovingly and rubbed his jawline to ease the sudden throbbing.

"Is it important?"

Nagata sifted his mobile from his pocket and glanced over the screen, irritated by the name blaring back at him. "Just Touma."

"Ah, Touma," he said delicately. "How is our dear Devil?"

"Annoying."

The racket seized momentarily, only to continue relentlessly throughout subsequent conversation.

"What about the others?" he pressed. "Yamato and Nagisa, you know, the rest of your litter."

"They aren't dogs and they aren't mine." His voice was surprisingly honest—serious and strong. He was far from stupid. This was Arashi's way of deception. He needed to shrug it off as normal. "'Sides, I haven't seen 'em in years."

"The two could already be around," continued Arashi smoothly. "I wouldn't put it past Nagi—" There was a twitch in Death's eyebrows as they knitted in exasperation, "—_sa_, not after how the Fourth Cycle ended. You didn't even get a chance to see her before you were dead before you knew it. We wouldn't want that to happen again. I do believe you are the most needed if we wish to accomplish our joint goals."

"You weren't awake for the Fourth Cycle—born even, if that mother of yours was human."

"Mother was human. I can vouch for that."

"Don't care. Get to the fucking point." Realizing the momentum had dissipated, Nagata reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and tugged out the lone cigarette inside. He lit it with a flick of his finger and slight manifestation of his dark energy—it came down to converting it into flames, which he learned quickly around the coming of the Second Cycle when finding matches proved difficult in the midst of battle. "You aint getting shit out of manipulating me."

Arashi was nothing like the previous hosts of the Strength Arcana. Ryutaro was a complete representation of his card; this boy opposed it somehow, yet he awakened to it.

"I am not trying to manipulate you; I know how far that would get me." He glanced down smartly, a tad coltish but stringently proud. "I was merely concerned about the wellbeing of your little brothers and sister. Anyone attuned to their memories of previous cycles admit they miss the old days. Watching the Housen family outsmart us all, stronger and smarter than all the rest, they were the first captains of the Gotei 13—well, except Nagisa, she established the Kidōshū. How was your fame?"

Nagata took a drag of his cigarette, allieviated as the sweet poison slowly trail down his throat to fill his lungs. Warmth filled him shortly as he shot down the memories rising from the ashes in his brain. He though he had buried them deep, but apparently that hadn't been the case—everything was there from the second they became Arcana to what they experienced with each coming cycle as if it was on instant replay. If there were something he would change about his origins, it'd be killing the memories. The past shouldn't matter. That bore Nagisa taught him that, but then again, that probably wouldn't make her as boring and annoying as he portrayed her.

Nagisa might have been younger, but she had wisdom that put Kouyou to shame. She taught everyone something new at every moment, always smiling—_the selfish brat, keeping the happiness to herself—_and being so sagacious he found it irritating. He couldn't have appointed a better monarch, but that upset Yamato.

_Everything went to shit afterward._

Instead of nodding off into the distant memory, he grounded himself and stared the shrimp down. "Great," he started wickedly, "Got good pussy every hour on the hour."

Strength chuckled. "How crass."

"Now tell me, what the fuck are you getting at?"

Touma must have been on his fiftieth dial now, yet no response was awarded. Instead, Nagata put his mobile on silent. (He learned from Kurosaki how to do this, surprisingly enough.)

"Simply put, without bush beating, I decided I will follow your circumstances, so long as we agree on _my _condition."

"Nope, I don't do conditions."

"I insist we compromise for the sake of Haruka."

"Haruka aint dying, kid, even if you manage to kill her off yourself," defended Nagata. "I'm still here. She won't be dying so long as I'm around to bring her back and I'll do it—don't care if you chop her up in pieces and bury them in different locations, I'll find her and put her back together."

"…And I admire your conviction but," he went on, "if we need to make the decision for her, it wouldn't be any fun."

"She isn't a fucking bet. She a human fucking being."

He laughed and cynically said, "Did she soften you up with her silence, Death? She isn't very charming."

"Get to the fucking point!"

His impatience rang loudly—literally and figuratively. His head was throbbing from the mere reminder of vast white walls and the smell of vomit-provoking medicinal herbs mixed with the stinging scent of blood. The pain swept through him like waves rolling over the ocean shore on stormy weather. He could almost feel it then in his present body.

"Haruka should decide for herself whether she lives or dies," said Arashi silkily. "If she says it aloud, "I want to die!" I will do her the favor, but if she cries, "I want to live!" you win. Easy?"

Suddenly, Nagata dug out his phone, taking the cigarette from his mouth to leave a swirl of pale smoke floating around his frame, and answered the call. "This was on silent, you fucking asshole!" he barked, startling Strength. "Even then, I still knew you were calling every fucking minute!"

"It's important!" retorted Touma exasperatedly. "Kouyou hasn't arrived yet, so I can't—"

"How fucking difficult is it to leave a pair of teenagers on their own for a split two seconds?"

"I can't do that! If Kurosaki takes the first train back, you'll have my head! And if Wakatsuki has another one of her twitch sessions, you'll have my head! I had no choice!"

"I told Grandma Tsukino to keep watch on Kurosaki! He's not going anywhere!"

"How'd you get her to listen?" There was an easiness in the redhead's voice, as if he had been sharing a casual conversation rather than relaying this so-called _important _information.

"That's beside the point! What the fuck do you want?"

"The Chariot is awakening."

A look of complete annoyance crossed Nagata's features. "You better be fucking with me, Touma."

"Wakatsuki called it during her twitch session!"

His eyes narrowed at Arashi's amused expression. _Little shit._ "Don't move until I call back." He shut his phone and returned it to his pocket as he eyed the boy incriminatingly. "Chariot's awakening, did you know that? Is that why you agreed to our sparing match and set those lame conditions?"

But Arashi looked shocked, almost outraged. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, asshole."

"There isn't any reason why Chariot should be emerging," he said quickly. "It won't be easy taking on two new members, unless…"

He had this suspicious look on his face; Nagata hated it.

"What?"

"You can return life to the Chariot's host."

"Forget it." Death straightened out and breathed exasperatedly, without leaving him any room to finish whatever order the boy was wording. "Leave all this shit to me."

Nagata swept past the shorter boy, but stopped hallway past him as he placed the cigarette back between his lips. He twisted around as Arashi turned to face him and without warning, he smashed his fist into the boy's astonished expression as strong and swiftly as possible. Arashi's body flung backward into a stack of seat and snapped through them. He was knocked unconscious before he hit the chairs. He wouldn't know what hit him when he woke up.

"That's for ordering me around, you little shit."

He vanished from within the building, not leaving a single trace of his overpowering aura in the ancient hospital.

. . . . .

Touma looked oddly proud once he finished relaying the information to his older brother as he placed his pink mobile over the table's surface. He glanced up from the screen to Ichigo, grinning from ear to ear.

"He's going to call me back."

Ichigo nodded silently, glimpsing at Haruka's slumbering form at his side. It had only been a few minutes after she had her seizure and she had been knocked unconscious. He checked her breathing periodically as he had been instructed day after day since he first started working as Wakatsuki Hiko's replacement. Because her father couldn't stay more than one hour beside her, he grew used to filling the vast emptiness with people willing to cater to her every need (that apparently doubled as shinigami agents on patrol for rogue Arcana members, who may pose a threat to his precious children).

"So how's the kid?"

Ichigo stared at Touma oddly.

"What I can't ask?"

"Didn't think you cared," answered Ichigo seriously. He shot another sideways glance in the frail girl's direction, as if to make sure she was still sleeping as easily as she had been the previous two minutes. "Yeah, she'll be fine."

The redhead leaned into the short table, elbow propped up and his chin rested in his open hand. He looked bored out of his mind as he waited to receive a phone call that Ichigo instinctively assumed would never come.

"…So what's that thing killing her?"

"NPSLE," he answered simply.

"Naughty pseudo-sex leaping ecstasy?" Touma vigilantly watched the teenager's eyebrows knit exasperatedly. "Not bad for a terminal disease."

"Don't make up your own disease!" snapped Ichigo.

"Maybe next time you should give me the name, stupid!"

"Neuropsychiatric Systematic Lupus Erythematosus."

"In English please."

"It's a disease that severely damages epithelial cells in the blood-brain barrier."

Touma continued staring at him vacantly. "That why she sucks at school?"

"No, it's basically damaging the protective layer of—"

"Yeah, I never went to school?" he interrupted.

Ichigo looked extremely bothered, remembering well enough that even Nagata had some level of education thanks to his human life. "Don't you people reincarnate?"

"Only if we die."

"And?"

Touma almost looked offended as he said, "I'm not stupid; I've never died."

"Huh?" He found that a bit hard to believe considering the man's personality type.

"I'm a bit like Kouyou," Ichigo vividly picture the gentlemanly male in his head as the redhead went on talking, "we haven't died since we became Arcana. I never got the privilege of attending school like other Originals. Kouyou's lucky, he's always been disturbingly smart. I was raised in the boonies." The Devil shrugged his shoulders discouragingly. "Well, does that disease just make her body jerk all over the place?"

"They're called seizures."

"That it?"

"There's hypersensitivity to sunlight."

"Does she turn to ashes or something?"

"No. She gets a rash."

"Just a rash?" he sounded disbelieving.

"I guess."

"What do you mean _you guess_? You either know or you don't."

"Haruka takes care of herself, so I've never seen her with a rash."

"Self-sufficient but useless, eh?" The Devil didn't even crack a smile. "Aint even funny to laugh at?"

"Don't call her useless," said Ichigo seriously, "You hardly know her."

"Whatever." Touma waved his hand in dismissal. "Let's continue. What else is there?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Why do you want to know so much about it?"

"Curiosity."

"Ueda-san says she's always going in and out of depression."

"Ueda-san?"

"Her housekeeper."

"Ah, and depression—doesn't that make people want to kill themselves."

"Not everyone. There are different stages."

"Okay," nodded Touma. "Go on, what else?"

"Headaches."

"Everyone gets headaches."

"The one's she gets are a lot harsher apparently."

"Sucks to be her. Is that all?"

"Ueda-san said psychosis, too. That's what usually gets her into the hospital most times, apart from the accidents."

"What's that?"

"Hallucinations mostly. She talks to herself a lot."

"That'd make her crazy. We should put her in a home for crazy people or something."

"She's not crazy," he defended, irritated. "It's called psychosis and she doesn't lose contact with reality _all_ the time."

"Still sounds crazy."

"She's not crazy!"

There was a lengthy silence between them as Touma looked eyes with him.

"I honestly don't get it," he started, perplexed. "You're obviously not doing this for the money anymore, so what's the point? It's not even safe to be around her with Soul Society's mess running rampant through Human World."

It was déjà vu all over again. He remembered Nagata interrogating him over the same subject, but there was a big difference between the approaches the siblings had taken. Touma acted presumably sensible, a tad confused, but he didn't exactly mean any harm. Nagata was harsher, more direct and accusing. They were brothers for having similar thinking process, but the execution was different. He never thought there would be a reasonable sibling between them considering the paramount exaggerations the redhead had taken when Haruka was the subject. He glared at her the entire morning over breakfast before Nagata left without speaking a word. He accused her of knowing more than she did yesterday.

Haruka rubbed him the wrong way, but again, that went for everyone else. Ichigo deemed himself the only exception in the group. She was odd, but there was something amusing about her eccentricity.

"Wakatsuki-san asked me to take care of her; I'm just doing what I was told."

"That's not what I meant."

'Then what?"

"You're just as human as the next guy, you may be stronger than the ordinary person because of that training you did on your adventure to beat Aizen, but you're not even at the level of strength needed in a human to fend off against the weakest Arcana." Touma straightened out and repositioned himself on the cushion cross-legged with both hands curved over his knees. "Since we're perplexed about Haruka's role in this story, we can't really leave you two alone—ever. Haruka is a weakness of her old man. Well, both his brats are, but nobody likes Arashi. So we're not going to hijack him, even if he does like the limelight."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Ichigo seriously, wondering how many more loops were left in the story to fill for Touma to find reason to move forward onto the next puzzlement.

"What I'm sayin' is y'all are gonna be wedged in the middle of two sides."

Touma suddenly drew a sketching pad from behind his back and flipped it open. Ichigo knew where this was going and expected drawings worse than Rukia's ridiculous doodles, but met with some oddly accurate cartoonish renditions of himself and Haruka sitting in the center of two literally warring sides, one shaded completely with gray and the other black with a marker.

"Gray represents Arcana. Black is obviously Soul Society."

"Why are you fighting against Soul Society?"

The redhead shook his head. "Can't tell you. Bro would have my head."

Ichigo feared the possibility of being torn between sides for one significant reason.

"Anyway, you're going to stay grounded in the middle for the obvious reasons and a few that aren't so obvious—don't ask me, I can't tell—" He flipped to the next page, to show both he and Haruka had taken different sides, "before you know it, you split. You go to Soul Society because they'll somehow manage to win you over—the Arcana are evil manifestations; a forbidden curse created them; the only good you can do them is defeating them. Haruka will come with us because she can't be saddled on with you because she won't cooperate with Soul Society because deep down inside she probably knows what happened and justifies it entirely in complete silence. She will stubbornly support the Arcana—good or bad—and will most likely end up your enemy." He changed the page to show Ichigo dressed in his shihakusho and holding Zangetsu in a battle ready pose. "You get your powers back through safe and secret (or forbidden) means and get to jump into the fray after being briefed by Hikocchi, who'll be under the impression we stole Haruka to bait him. And—" Another page went out of sight and the new one possessed a crisply drawn male with long pale hair, golden eyes, and a wry smile wearing a long dark military coat, "then you'll probably have the misfortune of fighting Enishi."

"You mean Nagata."

"Nagata Taishi is his human name—_irrelevant_." He tapped the picture. "This is Enishi. He's the strongest of the whole group. He doesn't die easy. It usually takes an entire army to off him. And even if you do get to fight him, Haruka would probably get in the way. She won't let you kill each other."

"…"

"Why are you looking at me that way?"

"That didn't make any sense."

"It wasn't supposed to; I was just yankin' your chain!" Touma barked out a laugh. "That and I wanted to use a series of pictures to tell a story!" He sobered up instantly, looking at him serious. "But seriously, what's the point of staying around? You're only going to get in trouble. By the time the war starts, there won't be a center for either one of you to stand on and chances are Haruka might be dead before any of that happens."

"What?"

"There won't be a middle ground. You're going to have to pick sides and my money is on you going back to Soul Society, even if we do tell you our truth. That's irrelevant because Soul Society will always prevail."

It made sense to Ichigo, that's where most of his friends were and he wouldn't turn his back to them.

"Wakatsuki's dad works for Soul Society, Wakatsuki—"

"Doesn't mean we won't take her for bait. Hikocchi owes us for all the years he's killed us and as childish as it may seem, we're vengeful son's a bitches."

"I don't think Haruka would turn against her own father."

Touma sighed. "Then you don't know yer girlfriend very well."

The serious mood shattered instantly.

"She's not my girlfriend!" stated Ichigo.

He scratched the back of his head and yawned. "Really. Atsuko-nee keeps saying you're both an item. She's going bananas."

"Well, she isn't."

Even so, a dash of red appeared to sell the teenager short.

"Jesus, if you like her, jus' ask her out already," spat Touma, jumping to his feet. "It aint hard, it's a yes or no question."

"I barely know her!" snipped Ichigo. "And, I don't see her like that."

"Who cares! You get to know her after you get her into—" Kouyou suddenly appeared in a dust of black smoke beside the redhead, sending him jerking backwards in sudden fright, "what the fuck? Don't scare me like that."

"Meet your brother. He is in need of assistance."

"What's he doing?"

"Breaking into the morgue in the hospital to retrieve the Chariot."

Touma grabbed his jacket from the floor and slid into it, smiling broadly. "Nice," he said, nodding. "Stealing's definitely up my alley."

He disappeared shortly, leaving no trace behind.

Kouyou smiled kindly at Ichigo and glanced over to the sleeping girl at his side. "How I envy the young."

Ichigo felt nothing short of awkward since Touma left and that might have been the nicest thing he had to say about Nagata's younger brother.

* * *

_In my dreams, whenever I have them, I always imagine myself playing board games and there's an assortment in my head. I play with the darkness most times—an abysmal pit overflowing with stray, vacant and aggressive sort of emotions—but when I am able, there is another that joins me here._

"It's your turn," said Haruka calmly, moving her piece across the checkered board. Her eyes flickered upward to face a slender woman sitting across the table from her wearing that wore a form fitting black dress suited for an office job with winding locks of golden brown hair and similarly pale blue eyes.

Wakatsuki Sara hummed, analyzing the chessboard, as she tapped her chin with her index finger. "However do you get me in these sorts of situations?"

Haruka frowned, the heat rising to her cheeks. "Mom…"

"Ah!" Sara finally moved her piece. "I think this will do it."

Haruka finished the game quickly and called, "Checkmate."

Sara clapped with a large smile. "You are quite possibly the only one that can beat me at a game of chess."

There is definite silence within the dark space as she slowly began to realize that consciousness was returning to her and the vision sitting across her in front of a board of chess is nothing more than an illusion created by her mind. There is a point in which this saddened her, forced the bottled emotions to stir inside her heart.

The illusion, though, acting as normal as she remembered her mother as a child, craned her neck sideways to have a look beyond the strands of golden hair shielding her eyes.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

Haruka heard the soft rumble of voices from the adjacent room. Her conscious was returning to reality, she could vividly smell the tatami underneath the fresh futon.

Sara's eyebrows slumped. "I know that expression, you're afraid."

"I'm okay."

"Is someone bothering you?"

Wakamura and her groupies crossed her mind fleetingly, but she diluted the memories at will. It was best not to think of those things.

"No one."

"…Then, what is it?"

Haruka's lips parted to speak, but just as quickly sown together as she averted her gaze and watched her surroundings blur, then dissipate into the blackness that spread behind closed eyes. She came to slowly, blinking away drowsiness as she felt the weight of the blanket over her back numbing the effects of a startlingly cold shiver. Shrouded in the darkness of partly shut doors, she shifted uncomfortably, stretching out her hand to feel something cold against her arm and welcomed the noiseless ambience beyond the Chrysanthemum Room once the gossiping waitresses moved on to clean out the adjacent room after the tenants checked out that morning. She dropped her eyes to the object sitting against her arm and saw it was her PSP. Immediately, she glanced over her shoulder to the stream of light falling through the crack between the doors, spilling until it reached the foot of her futon.

She pushed off the covers and breathed deeply as she leaned forward, peeking through the tiny aperture and caught sight of Ichigo orange hair. She felt a slight tingling she likened to relief as she slowly recalled the moments preceding her awakening and the annoying sound of Touma's voice questioning Ichigo incessantly as she fell into a deep slumber.

As she sat quietly in her seat, she figured due to the opaque quality of the light streaming into the bedroom that it was late evening and her stomach grumbled hungrily.

There was movement in the adjacent room, footsteps thudded closer to the shoji screens separating the two before they were pushed apart and a flood of light blinded her sleepy eyes. She cringed, shutting her eyes as she instinctively reached to rub them.

"Ah, you're awake," said Ichigo, returning to the table to pick a couple things off the surface and went back to her side. "Here, eat first."

Haruka peeled open her eyes slowly to see the rectangular platter of onigiri held in front of her and then looked to her orange-haired companion inquiringly.

"Tsukino-san brought them a few minutes ago," he explained, waiting for her to take the plate from his hands and set it on her lap. "After you finish, take your pills." He placed a bottle of pills in her hand and then handed her a bottle of water. "I'm going to the bathhouse."

She nodded understandingly and waited for him to leave the room with the most decent set of clothes purchased by the deviant Arcana brothers. She stared at her food questionably for a few minutes before a loud growl escaped her stomach; there was no room for her pickiness, she figured as she picked up one of the triangular rice treats to stuff into her mouth.

She ate silently before falling prey to her favorite distraction, as it had been sitting at her side the entire time, and soon forgot about the remaining two onigiri to continue her adventure as a zombie hunter. She had just gotten to one of the penultimate levels before the end of the main story. There was still a short spin off that came with the game, although she needed to pass it first to unlock it.

When Ichigo returned rubbing his hair dry with a small towel, he peeked into her room curiously—almost warily, expression somber because as everyone else before him, her disease took a toll on them—and frowned at the sight of the uncapped water bottle and discarded pills.

"Wakatsuki!" he growled, stepping inside wearing a comfortable pair of cotton pants and black t-shirt (plain, unlike the rest of the shirt populace in the room).

"Hm?" She didn't look up from the screen. Her blues eyes simply reflected the gory effects of the game.

"You haven't finished eating."

"I know."

"Then?"

"Not hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day!" he said exasperatedly. "Tsukino-san only brought four onigiri, you ate one and a half."

"I'm full."

Ichigo had been advised to be strict with the tenacious Wakatsuki Haruka, especially when it came to eating. Ueda-san often said, "_If you let her do as she wishes, she won't eat and will stay glued to that game of hers. Then, when she takes her medication again, her body will automatically reject them—she needs to be well fed before each dose, too. So, don't let her do as she wants, got it? Stand your ground!_"

And so, Ichigo did the first thing that came to his head.

He confiscated her PSP. She didn't even see it coming with how quickly he swept in to grab it.

Haruka looked devastated as the ghoulish zombies groans resounded within their silent atmosphere.

"Wha—"

"Finish eating."

"I'm not hungry!" she complained, in a normal speaking voice.

Ichigo blinked. He had gotten used to her incoherent mumbles for the past few weeks.

_Guess this is what Ueda-san meant by standing my ground…_

"If you don't eat you'll pass out again!" he argued.

"Good!"

He shut it off and stuffed it into his pocket. "You're not getting it back until you finish eating," he stated, pulling one shoji screen shut on his way into the next room. "And drink your pills. I'll know if you don't do it."

"No you won't," she complained lowly, silently steaming.

Her lack of appetite gave him no right to confiscate her game, especially when she was about to get to the best part.

"Yes I will," he shot back as he plopped down to continue doing with his time what he had for the past four hours—watch bad television programming.

Haruka reluctantly stuffed the rest of the onigiri in her mouth messily and fumbled onto her feet. She crossed into the other room, still trying to force herself to chew what was in her mouth when she appeared, holding her arm out to retrieve her stolen PSP.

Ichigo stared at her in disbelief, watching rice fall from her mouth and tumble down her torso. "That's disgusting, Wakatsuki."

She swallowed hard and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I finished."

. . . . .

Ichigo accompanied Haruka outside once the new guests of her grandmother's ryokan had settled into their respective rooms and Kato-san poked his head into the Chrysanthemum Room to assure them it was safe to wander. He was inwardly thankful that both Nagata and Touma were out of the place, knowing either one of them would willingly do or say something out of place to bother the attendants. He could already imagine the look on Tsukino Atsuko's face when the news reached her ears; they wouldn't last another second in that place. That was the last thing they needed.

The evening out in the countryside was cool and the air was filled with various scents.

Haruka led the way out to the backyard of the ancient establishment and followed a dirt walkway sitting to the left of the ryokan's vegetable garden. She shot a slight glance over her shoulder, noticing Ichigo had been taking in his surroundings wondrously.

Truthfully speaking, he had never visited a fancy ryokan before and given the history of this particular establishment, he was surprised it looked so well managed after so long.

"…wrong?"

"Huh?"

Ichigo stopped abruptly when he realized he was about to run straight into Haruka and took a step back, looking into her face.

"Is something wrong?" she repeated softly.

"No," he replied, looking over her head. "Where are we going?"

"Pool," she answered with a hint of a smile, pointing over her shoulder. "We have to take the back entrance and climb up a small slope, but the place is right around the corner."

"Isn't it a little too late to go to a pool?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "That means there won't be anyone in the building."

"Oh—" He leisurely let the idea settle until it wired into his brain and he understood exactly what that had meant. "You mean you're breaking in?"

"We are."

Haruka blithely continued down the dirt road with a lighter disposition as she disappeared into the shadows beyond the last remaining lanterns.

Ichigo sighed exasperatedly and rushed after her. "Wait up!"

Before she sprung the idea of venturing outside, Haruka had taken all of her medicine on time and had nestled underneath the table until her vertigo passed as they watched a 90s film about samurai on the television. She had finished passing her penultimate level and attempted at the final, but perished enough times to find discouragement in the words "Game Over" and thus had taken a break. She had lulled around bored until Tsukino appeared to ask if she was ready for her bath, to which Haruka said she had taken in the morning. She had grown incredibly bored before stumbling upon a recurrent thought that helped devise the idea of breaking into the recreational center's natatorium, which she admittedly hadn't seen since she lived in her grandmother's inn as a child.

Haruka led the way to the natatorium skillfully, as if she had taken the backyard way her entire sixteen years of life. There had been sharp turns as they headed beyond the vegetable garden and further until the people wandering the inn's open-sided walkways were blurred by the incandescent lanterns strung from the ceilings. She pushed her frail body up the tiny slope that reached a deserted street and started leading the way down the street, approximately one block before it came time to take a sharp turn to the right where the gargantuan white center building became visible.

It had only taken ten minutes to get there through the shortcut she suggested, though she admitted, it was a shorter walk if they went out the front gate.

"Where do you get off breaking into this place?" whispered Ichigo as they sneaked through the side of the solid building, practically fumbling past the heavy shade of darkness. He had been following the sound of Haruka's soft steps and voice since they started until they reached an attached building with a functioning light paving the way toward the double door entrance.

Haruka dug into the pockets of the maroon sweater she borrowed from Nagata and pulled out a solid silver key. "I actually have a key."

"You stole a key," he nearly shouted at the sight of her unlocking the front entrance.

She shot him a look of disbelief and then faced the door pensively. "I hope they haven't changed the locks."

"What?"

Ichigo could only imagine how they would sneak in if they had, so he could only pray the owner of the building never thought of changing the locks as Haruka slipped in the master key and turned.

The soft click of the lock sounded and she tugged open the heavily door, turning to press her back against it to hold it open as her reluctant companion trudged inside, looking just as unhappy as he did on a normal basis. She let the door shut carefully behind her and searched the left wall for the light switches once they were shrouded in complete darkness. Ichigo hadn't moved far away from her as she bumped shoulders with him when she flipped on the buildings lights.

The entire building blinked to life, bright lights cleared every inch of darkness and revealed the spacious area leading into the locker rooms. The large swimming pool sat in the center of the area, which shone a bright aquamarine under the new illumination.

Ichigo wandered off curiously, taking in the heavy scent of lime floor wax and chlorine. "So, what d'you plan to do here?"

"Swim."

He could hear the sound of rustling clothes behind him and gulped anxiously at the sound of her response.

"Are you even allowed to?"

"No."

"Then why are you doing it?" he pressed unconsciously.

"If you ask a person to stop breathing, will they?"

He turned around to face her quick enough to see that she was still in her clothes and not—

_Never mind._

He shook the thoughts out of his head. "No."

Haruka took a step closer to him so they were standing side by side, her eyes taking in the sight of the pool and reawakening memories of a seemingly distant past.

"When I was younger, I wanted to swim," she said quietly. "I had my parents bring me here almost every day so I could swim and get better. I wanted to be a professional when I was older, had plans to attend the schools with the best swimming teams even if it meant studying day in and out to get into them. I was taking basic lessons when I first started having muscle spasms, followed by joint pain, until eventually I couldn't step into the water without my body turning as cold as stone—coming seizures.

"During the next few months I was diagnosed improperly, one disease after the next, each worse than the last. In the end, I couldn't swim anymore and my mother bought me a new hobby—sketchbooks and color pencils." She felt him staring at her intently as the mere recollection forced her body to shudder in what she faintly recognized as pain. Their surroundings were completely dead, but she always knew the acoustics in the building were the best, so her once quiet voice enveloped it completely. "I always hated drawing. I hated everything about it. Capturing still shots of life, putting your imagination on paper, exploring the depth of your emotions—complete _bullshit._"

She continued forward until she reached the short wall separating the lounge with the swimming pool and leaned over it, making shapes out of the water's surface.

"I hate how my fingers are always cramp up from holding paintbrushes and pencils. I ruined my favorite clothes thanks to those oil paints. My back always hurts from sitting in that stool all day long waiting for some idea to come to mind." She paused briefly as she watched, through her periphery, as Ichigo leaned into the ledge beside her, eyes still on her. "I used to paint and draw about water and swimming. I drew myself at the bottom of the sea surrounded by make believe sea creatures, sometimes I felt I could imagine myself inside to the point I almost drowned once." She cast a wary look in his direction, starting to feel self-conscious about the story. "I was hallucinating the entire time and tried to choke myself with the scarf around my neck. I was hospitalized for a few weeks then and decided to stop drawing water altogether."

Ichigo waited until the silence was nearly deafening before speaking up.

"Aren't you just hurting yourself now?"

Haruka nodded. "Yes, but all I want to do right now is swim," she said, letting a tiny hint of a smile appear over her lips. "So, I'll be okay."

She excused herself to get dressed in the locker rooms. He had been unaware she had arrived prepared until she exited wearing a solid black diamond back swimsuit fit for recreational swimming. She was tucking in her brown hair into a cap, fixing it even after she had managed to hide every strand.

Haruka walked past the wall and headed straight to the center of the swimming pool where the she planned to swim across and back as she had been taught during her youth. She wasn't certain what affects her body would have to the sudden strain, but was willing to take the chance so long as she was able to feel the soothing calm of the water's embrace.

She slipped on a pair of goggles, took a breath, and jumped into the water with a slight splash. She kicked her feet as her body stung in the presence of the freezing waters—stinging like needles—and started forward with a front crawl, pushing one arm after the other in synch with complete disregard to her body's instability. She continued towards the other end of the pool as if in a dream.

The water that once chilled her body to the bone had opened up its arms in welcome, washing over her like a blanket of complete warmth. Her mind had instantly cleared, all ill thoughts banished, as her focus was fixed on finishing a complete lap within the pool, even as she started to feel pain throbbing in her arms. This was the only moment she had to do something she wanted more than anything else in the world.

Nobody believed she wanted to become a professional swimmer as a child. Her mother and father had called it a phase, similar to Arashi's adamant behavior in taking martial arts around the same age. She had been half expected to take a couple ballet classes, learn to play a classical instrument—somewhere along the lines of pianos, flutes, or violins—and be overachieving throughout school. There was a moment in her life where her parents had those many and more expectations of her that she never wanted. Swimming would be a simple pastime. They figured that once she entered school, she'd be hitched with the next best sport.

Then the lupus happened and took permanent residence in her brain like an inoperable tumor.

It took her dream of swimming and her parent's expectations without warning.

Sara had been so lost during the darkest hours that she presented her with drawing utensils to get her started on a new hobby. Haruka drew very little at first. Her drawings were mediocre at best and there was always a twinge of sadness in her heart whenever she realized that whatever dreams she once hoped to accomplish wouldn't come true. It didn't affect her terribly until it was proven her lupus was neurological. It complicated everything, but not as much as the moment, she realized her drawings were worth something.

She was good at it.

A creative genius.

People fawned over the canvases and sketches like moths to a flame.

Every time, she felt more ashamed of hating her craft, but it still infuriated her.

Being good at painting had settled everything. It only proved she would never be able to swim. She would die holding a paintbrush in her hand, rather than a medal around her neck.

Even if her hands were broken, they still painted the same.

It was a curse.

Her moment of ecstasy came to a quick end.

Haruka gasped as she reached the end and heaved her body onto a seat at the ledge, breathing heavily as she pulled the goggles off her face. She ran the back of her hand over her cheek, wiping the warm trail mixing with the cold water.

If she died, she'd have no regrets because she had never been given the moment to make any.

Ichigo walked up to her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded quickly with a slight smile. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Even though she had finished saying this, Ichigo couldn't help but notice her arms were shaking, or that her chest was heaving. Regardless, this was probably the first time he had ever seen her face light up with a smile, let alone heard her speak anything beyond six words at a time. She had opened the doors for him, and he faintly grasped little understanding of her persona.

"Sure," he desisted, straightening out and taking a seat in one of the folding chairs aligning the wall. He cleared his head and figured there was no harm in letting her enjoy the moment a while longer. "You don't plan to sit there for the rest of the night, do you?"

Haruka glanced over her shoulder in time to see the grin on his face. "At least let me catch my breath."

* * *

Touma had finished setting a striped tie in place underneath the stark white collar of his shirt and donned on the lab coat his brother had tossed in his direction when they first decided to turn towards thievery upon realizing entering the hospital asking questions about a deceased body was no way to get what they wanted.

Nagata took a pair of spare lab coats with new identities and he provided a collared shirt, tie, and pants for each after digging through one of the locker rooms. Nagata dressed quickly while watching the clock on the wall impatiently.

"I don't think I can pass as a doctor. Nobody trusts a redhead."

"If you're so paranoid, dye it," Nagata shot back.

He was staring at himself in a tiny square mirror, brushing his hair behind his ears until he managed to flatten it neatly. He tilted his head back and forth, watching strands of fiery red hair fall in and out of his field of vision.

"Do we have time?"

Nagata glared at him maliciously. "You're fucking kidding me? We don't have time for this bullshit! We've just gotta retrieve the body and that's that."

"What do we do with the body? It's not like you can revive the host without the fifty percent chance of speeding up the awakening!"

Something hard bounced off Touma's head and clattered noisily on the ground. Touma's eyes widened at the sight of a stapler and then jerked around to face the obnoxious blond.

"You don't throw a fucking stapler, Enishi!"

"It's Taishi, you annoying prick!"

"Enishi sounds better!"

"I don't care what sounds better! Taishi is my name now!" Nagata jerked on the white lab coat over his maroon shirt and black tie and headed for the doorway. "Now, come on!"

"You should at least do a comb over!"

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Touma rushed after him, slamming the door shut behind him. He hurried to catch up and match their strides as the two headed through the empty corridor set on finding an elevator to descend to one of the bottom floors.

"Let's hope she hasn't been identified."

"What're we going to do about Asano Keigo?"

"Arashi and Osaki are taking care of that."

"What?" Touma snapped. "Why're you letting them take him?"

"We came to an agreement," he said coolly. "Well, after he regained consciousness, we did."

"You don't consort with evil little assholes!"

"You don't unless you find use for them."

"What use could you find for him?"

"I gave him the sort of power Nagisa had over me," answered Death. "While's he celebrating in complete ecstasy, I get the opportunity to do everything I want without having to fight two simultaneous battle."

"…I don't get it."

"You don't have to, just take orders!"

Touma frowned disapprovingly, deciding to keep the rest of opinions to himself rather than continue being scolded by his brother. He averted his gaze as they stepped into the first elevator to open upon pressing the down button, half a step behind Nagata,

"Fine," he grumbled as he shook his head. "What are you even trying to do?"

Nagata did a double take once the metal doors slid closed, looking at the brat quizzically. "What? You don't know?" he breathed, almost anxiously, seeing the redhead shake his head from his periphery. "You'd think after all this time; it'd be obvious what I want."

Understanding, Touma felt his stomach lurch. "That's impossible."

The blond shrugged, wearing a proud smirk. "You know what they say, fifth time's a charm."

The doors flew open after descending to one of the bottom floors of the hospital where the bodies of the recently deceased were kept before being shipped to the morgue. They immediately sensed the powerful dark aura starting to spill beyond the frail barrier Kouyou had placed around the Chariot's host.

"That thing won't hold any longer," stated Touma, rushing forward. "I'll reinforce the barrier and create another."

Nagata agreed wholeheartedly this plan. He needed to conserve as much energy as he possibly could before he attempted to use his ability to spark new life into the host. He needed to reduce consequences. There was no room for mistakes when his plans were already in perfect motion.

* * *

Haruka had been swimming in squares around the inner outline of the pool, used to the freezing waters and the tingling ache of her exerted muscles, occasionally casting glances in Ichigo's direction. She caught him watching her just as intently as he had from the start and eventually, grew more than a little self-conscious about the whole ordeal. She had grown used to sneaking inside the natatorium with Arashi when they still lived there. Arashi spent the entire time texting or talking on his phone during their visits. There were times when he would invite one of the many girls at his disposal and take them to the storage room for some alone time.

It was safe to say, she wasn't used to the sort of attention she was receiving at that moment—_no_, if she had been more attuned to the various situations occurring in her surroundings, she would have realized he had slowly but surely become more attentive. Although, he did get irritated easily and he shouted at her a few times.

Ah, he was also very bossy. He took her PSP earlier, too, that was mean.

…But he took care of her. If she denied that, that would make her just a big a prick as Nagata and Touma combined, which meant they were starting to influence the way she viewed life and that she probably needed to find new company.

She caught herself staring at him just as keenly before she slipped underneath the glistening surface and swam towards the poolside in front of him. She took a breath when she used her arms to hoist her body over the ledge, but only enough to rest over them.

"Tired already?"

"Not yet." She pressed her cheek against her folded arms and looked up at him through pale lashes. "Kurosaki?"

"What?"

"You have incredible bone structure."

He blinked, astonished. "W-What?"

"I never noticed until today," she admitted airily. "I didn't pay much attention to you."

"That's—well—" He found himself at a loss of words. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, especially when she so insouciantly admitted it. He settled for something simple. "Okay."

"…Are you bored?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject. "You could have gotten into the pool, too. It's free."

"That's 'cause you broke in…"

"_We _broke in," she corrected, gesturing in the space between them. "You can do whatever you want. We can even play water polo. They have equipment in the storage. I learned how to play by watching a lot of internet videos—haven't tried it out, but I can teach you." She watched his lips quirk into a slight smile. "Ah, but it's a team sport and it might be complicated one on one. We could race?"

"You shouldn't tire yourself out," he said quickly, dismissing the idea.

She puffed her cheeks out childishly. "Then what was the point of walking across my grandmother's backyard?"

"You're the one that wanted to come here in the first place," he grumbled tirelessly.

"I am inviting you into my pool, Kurosaki, not my futon."

He completely disregarded the futon comment. His mind automatically rejected the idea that she had been influence horribly by the Arcana brothers that usually spent their entire evening talking inappropriately with special emphasis in Touma's wild lifestyle. He remembered not being able to sleep while the two started drinking at dawn, chortling about some stewardess in a skimpy pink uniform. He couldn't go back to sleep once they started breaking into disturbing hysterics.

"No," he stated.

"If you want, I will drift away with my eyes closed until you get out of those stuffy clothes and get in, though it doesn't make a difference. I have seen more naked people than teenage girls my age should have."

She did as she said, drifted away in meek silence with her eyes sown shut, though the echoed presence of her voice still remained and as she flopped over to float on her back, Ichigo came to the sudden conclusion that it wouldn't kill him to comply with her invitation after she had opened up to him.

"Fine. We can race," he huffed, tugging his shirt off.

Haruka cheated. She did look and noticed there was more to his physique that reminded her of a distant moment, of the old naked woman she drew in an afterschool course with college-level students—except whatever emotion she had felt them, even while sketching from a professional point of view, she was certain whatever was stirring her insides was the complete opposite. She tore her eyes away as he lifted his gaze to see her blithely float on by, but when he kicked off his shoes and reached for the waistband of his pants, Touma and Nagata appeared in a shocking cloud of dark smoke.

As if on cue, an excruciating throbbing thudded against her skull. She nearly lost her balance and swam toward the nearest ledge to latch on. There was a dark force threatening to penetrate her brain until it managed to eradicate her of thought processes as she noticed there was someone else accompanying Death and Devil. It was the source of all the dark energy clouding the building.

"Put your clothes back on, Kurosaki!" ordered Nagata.

Ichigo wasn't paying attention, though, as his shirt dropped to the tiled floor. His eyes were glued to the dark haired girl situated limply unconscious under Death's careless arm. "Tatsuki."

Touma blinked. "Oh, he knows her—"

A look of complete fury took Ichigo's once peaceful features. "What the hell are you doing with Tatsuki?"

Haruka's arms were trembling as she struggled to heave her aching body out of the water and onto the ledge. If she remembered correctly, she was introduced to one of Ichigo's classmates before they left for Kyoto, a girl named Arisawa Tatsuki, and although she could not see her face to determine whether or not it was indeed the same teenager she met that day, something told her it was.

Ichigo was answered with complete silence as Touma received mumbled orders from his brother and took a firm step towards the brothers, looking twice as angry. "What are you doing with her, Nagata?"

"She's the Chariot," said Haruka breathlessly, eyes downcast. Her voice travelled far, but not sufficiently enough to sound coherent to his ears.

"What?"

"She's the Chariot," she repeated, breathing difficultly as the throbbing in her head worsened. "She's only got a few hours before—" Her hands shot to her head and fingers dug into her skull painfully hoping the pain would dull, but it worsened. She dropped to the ground, holding herself as her body broke out into tremors. "—She—"

Ichigo's face drained of color. He couldn't fathom the thought, thus unable to word a single syllable to express the sudden void of emotions. That meant she was dead in the arms of Death.

"Here," said Nagata carelessly, pushing the girl into his brother's grasp. With a splash of darkness, he disappeared from his place and reappeared crouching down beside the shaking girl. He threw his jacket over her and placed a hand on her forehead. "Touma, raise as many barriers as you can to contain the energy, the excess amount of darkness could kill these two." Nagata faced Ichigo's quizzical expression. "I'll be bringing your friend back to life and suppressing her cycle. When she wakes up, she won't remember a thing." He looked back to the trembling teen at his knees and uttered something beneath his breath that sounded like incoherent babble to Haruka's ears. "The pain will fade, give it a moment."

She groaned as she flopped onto her back, letting the warm leather jacket slide off her body. As if on cue, while the sounds of Touma's handiwork resonated loudly over their heads, the pain slowly started to recede.

Nagata rose to his feet and strode towards Ichigo. "Get a grip, stupid, and go make sure that one doesn't die," he said nastily. "If she does, I'm sure you can imagine who I'll favor between the two girls."

"That's unfair!"

"Nobody made me boss for being just." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to Haruka. "Now go do your job, while I do mine."

He pushed past the orange haired brat and stepped beyond the border separating the pool from the lounge where Touma sat cross-legged in front of Arisawa Tatsuki's lifeless form. He erected various invisible barriers in order to contain the influx of dark energy threatening to kill their non-spiritually inclined companions. He needed more time before using his reversal abilities, so he seated himself atop the wall and overlooked his brother's work—make sure he had learned as much as he claimed during his time with Ageha. The barriers encasing the girl were top-class, he could sense the air had cleared and when he shot a diminutive glance over his shoulder, he noticed Haruka was back on her feet, tossing the leather jacket away in fear of something she called "Nagata-germs".

_Little bitch._

Ichigo couldn't concentrate. He wasn't willing to settle to twiddling his thumbs until he knew for certain that Nagata was going to help Tatsuki.

"Why her?" he whispered, hands fisting.

"It's a random lottery," replied Haruka coolly. "Arisawa Tatsuki fit the bill."

"Fit what?"

"The Chariot—Arisawa-san is strong and self-reliant," she explained, remembering the booklet she had read around the time she purchased the night she met Ichigo. She hadn't had the chance to look at them, but she did try to study them for a moment, unbeknownst the information would eventually become relevant. "Arashi used to give me playbacks of his entire day when I was in the hospital. They have karate together."

Unable to keep his thoughts from running rampant, Ichigo withheld his opinions. His focus remained fixed in the activities Nagata and Touma were partaking in that far of corner of their choice. If Tatsuki had been chosen, there was a great possibility any other of his friends could have been dragged into their mess.

The questions plagued him incessantly as time seemed to be passing at a snail's pace, where in reality an hour had already came and went since their arrival. Haruka had settled in a seat over poolside, her feet underneath the crystal surface, bored out of her mind, as Ichigo stood at her side, vigilantly observing Nagata and Touma. He was worried his suspicions may eat him from the inside out.

"Who else is there?"

Haruka craned her neck back to look directly at her. "Hm?"

"You know, don't you?" said Ichigo again. "You know a lot about them, don't you?" He averted his eyes from the dark ambience surrounding the Arcana brothers and looked directly into her face. "You know who the rest of the Arcana are. Are there more of my friends?"

Haruka leaned forward, looking away from him and the scene altogether. There was something distinctly bitter about that moment that she disliked. Maybe, for a moment, she had gotten used to ignoring all the facts. She had the power to sense the strangely wicked, dark aura that emitted from the Arcana. She read their numbers in her mind's eye. She predicted the death of members that had yet to awaken. She could spot candidates a mile away as if it were wired into her head at birth.

"Wakatsuki," he pressed impatiently. "Are there any more of my friends involved?"

She had at least wanted one normal friendship, but it was impossible.

"Ask Nagata," she said irritably. "I'm not psychic."

"What's wrong with you?"

She huffed, wrapping her arms over her trembling figure. "Nothing."

It had suddenly grown colder.

Ichigo was left with his impatience and Haruka with her irritability.

Similarly, Nagata and Touma were both conflicted in their own way.

Arisawa Tatsuki had been dead since 4:OO PM, killed immediately when a truck spiraled out of control and crushed into the convenience wall after hitting Asano Keigo, though it had initially been directed at Yamaguchi Tomo. Kouyou did not predict the Hanged Man would push her out of the way. Sacrifice for friendship was a good way to go, he had supposed, but it was still a shocking new development. The awakenings weren't going as scheduled.

It continued affirming Nagata's suspicions that there was something terribly wrong within the Arcana.

If Tsukino Atsuko cared about where her granddaughter spent her night, she'd probably be bitching now.

It was now 10:00 PM.

"I can extend the awakening for another hour," said Touma, breaking the brooding silence. "I can't do more than that though, not without the Magician around."

"Call Ageha. Together you could probably add two more hours," said Nagata thoughtfully.

Sweat had started to form at the corners of Touma's forehead. Upholding the barriers surrounding the teenage girl was draining his energy quickly.

"I think you know Ageha better than I do," replied Touma, flinching as he felt a shock of electricity ran up his arm. "_Shit_, these newbies are at their peak right now."

"Where's Kouyou?"

"He was with the brats, but it seems he was summoned to contain the Hanged Man." The redhead smirked in his brother's direction. "Don't you wish you would have kept _Yurie_?"

Nagata's eyebrows furrowed. He could feel the weight of his responsibility starting to become a burden. His power wasn't recharging; it was deteriorating. He had wasted too much power in his fight. He shouldn't have gone in there with more of a desire to play stupid than fight them seriously. He found himself regretting more than offing the Magician since the unawakened Arcana were dropping like flies.

"Focus, stupid," he said snappishly.

"I am focused!"

"Don't argue back, you'll lose concentration!"

"Should you be the one concentrating? I don't feel anything coming outta you! Have you gone dead on the inside?"

"Shut up!"

So, the remaining two (plus one) hours dwindled down the most nerve-racking minutes of everyone's life. Haruka had left the poolside and headed into the locker rooms where she used the showers and dressed back into her clothes. Ichigo grew restless and annoying, but at least he had put his shirt back on and stopped looking like a complete douchebag. Touma was in the brink of tears as he was constantly being electrocuted from the inside and his one stainless skin was now covered in tiny cuts and bruises.

"Are you done? We're running out of fucking time!" complained Touma noisily. "You should have had enough power an hour ago, when I went the extra mile for you!"

"Fuck off—"

Ichigo had grabbed Nagata by the collar roughly, staring at him furiously. "You said you'd bring her back! Why the fuck is she still dead?"

Nagata's eyes blazed as his hand slapped over the teenagers and he jerked it away. "Don't touch me or I'll drown you." He shoved him backward, hard enough to put some distance between them, but not enough to knock him off balance. "So fucking relax!"

Haruka drowsily pushed her body off her seat against the wall. "You shouldn't feel bothered by Nagata elongating the process of reviving Arisawa-san—it's impossible."

Ichigo looked astonished. "What?"

"Oh, you little whore," snapped Nagata, grabbing her by the shoulder roughly. Haruka flinched and duck her head, eyes shutting tight as she expected that fist he had made to smash into her face. "You're so dead!"

Ichigo intervened, forcefully ungrasping Death's arm from Haruka's throbbing shoulder and pushed his body between the two. "Leave her out of this!"

"You should learn how to control her!" spat Nagata. "Didn't I say that from the start?"

The fact that Nagata couldn't use his reversal ability (as imperative as it was) had enough time to boil over into what was happening now. He snapped under pressure. It screwed with his psychology and he hated the feeling of knowing he had restrictions.

"She's not an object!"

Nagata pushed up the sleeves of his stripped shirt and growled impatiently. "Come on, Kurosaki, you can be my punching bag while I relieve some—"

"Taishi," called Touma from his place. "You have enough energy to keep the barriers up. I have an idea."

"Touma, seriously, fuck off!" said Nagata exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

The redhead rose from his seat sloppily, struggling to keep his balance. "For once, listen to me," he said darkly. "You won't have to lift a finger, just sit there and concentrate whatever energy you have left into the barriers."

He placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a gentle tug. Nagata looked at him with pure hatred, but huffed. He sauntered towards Tatsuki's body and plopped down into the same position as his brother had assumed for the past few hours, grumbling disapprovingly.

Touma stood in front of Ichigo with a bright smile. "Can I talk to Wakatsuki?"

"What do you want?" asked Ichigo suspiciously.

"Jus' a talk," he answered easily. "It'll be quick. We only have a few minutes before your friend comes back to life."

Distrustful as he was, Ichigo moved slightly to reveal Haruka and watched as Touma leaned forward to eye level with the girl. The smile vanished from his face and a new grave expression molded his usually playful features.

Haruka jerked backward instinctively. "What?"

"I know who you are." Touma's eyes failed to show the slightest hint of hesitation when Haruka's heart thumped in discomfort. "I know what you can do, and I know that you can extend that girl's life."

"What?"

She sounded as perplexed as Ichigo looked.

Devil did not desist. He reached forward grabbing her by the shoulders, firmly but not hard enough to cause her harm. She stared at him blankly, chest throbbing painfully with the beating of her heart.

"I am not stupid. So cut the fucking crap. You have three minutes to save her."

"What for?"

Her voice was soft, but there was childish ire riddled beneath those words.

Ichigo's eyes bugged out. "What do you mean _what for_? That's my friend!"

"She's going to assume her responsibility whether she awakens now or later—"

"It can't happen now!" Touma shouted heatedly, shaking her back and forth with every forceful word. "You know better than anyone that it can't happen now! We can't have multiple Arcana awakening! We can't get there yet! We aren't ready! So cut the crap and bring her back!"

Haruka's stomach ached as she shook out of his grasp and slipped past him. She only need to postpone her upperclassmen's death long enough to avoid reaching thirteen members—easier said than done.

Ichigo and Touma watched as she ran her hand over Nagata's left shoulder as though she was picking something up and a thin violet card materialized between her fingertips with the skeletal picture of death face down. Nagata's concentration was too strong to shatter, so he went on feeding his energy to the barriers without realizing Haruka had stepped inside them. She stood behind Tatsuki's head, drawing the card in front of her as she ran a finger over the surface.

Ultimately, she had a lot to thank Ichigo for—saving a friend's life was more than enough payment.

"What is she doing?" asked Ichigo.

"She's doing what Enishi can't; she's bringing Arisawa Tatsuki back to life."

There was a moment in which Haruka had lifted her eyes as the card in her hands began emitting a dark energy that spun all along her fingers that Ichigo watched as flecks of gold splashed along her bright blue irises. He blinked.

_Gold eyes…? _

He had seen them before.

Haruka crouched down on the ground and placed her cold fingers over Tatsuki's temples, dark energy spinning wildly as they tightened and created a string of joint rings with strange vine-like carvings. She closed her eyes and concentrated deeply.

She took one deep breath and her body immediately felt lighter.

Lighter, almost weightless, she felt her legs stretch as a harsh gust of wind rushed through her body along with various sparks of black electricity. Her surroundings had changed into an area full of noise—static, screams, thunder, and decimation. She felt a sharp pain at her arms, legs, and face, followed closely by the warm trickle of blood before her feet touched the ground.

She opened her eyes, hearing the sound of pained breathing and following it. Beyond the destroyed replica of an ancient city, were various soldiers drenched in blood wearing thin armor over their uniforms. They held swords and spears—any weapon imaginable actually. They were faceless with the Roman numeral nine imprinted on their foreheads. The army pillaged what remained of the city, searching for the frightened dark-haired girl hiding behind chunks of debris, drenched in blood, covered in various wounds, and holding her heaving chest.

Arisawa Tatsuki's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when she had spotted the frail figure of Wakatsuki Haruka.

"Y-You," she breathed, chocking back painfully. "W—"

Haruka stepped forward, placing a finger to her lips to silence her, as the army of faceless soldiers grew rowdy. A cacophony of disgruntled and disturbing sounds emitted from the group as she carefully teetered over the lopsided debris covering the street between the two, shoes crunching noisily beneath the planks of wood when the uproar of sound reached their ears.

"Are you crazy?" whispered Tatsuki. She forced herself to manage that before the wave of pain returned to her and she bent over her legs trying to hold onto whatever remained of her life.

Their attention was instantly refocused. None of them waited before rushing forward, arms at the ready, to attack.

Another card was pulled from out of thin air: Devil. "Don't move, I will return life to you."

* * *

_**Thanks**: ruler of dragons, reality deviant, and ms. tomato for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Extra long chapter to welcome back ruler of dragons, who keeps my inbox warm, that went abroad on school business. :)

I revealed a few things here and there. Pacing will, hopefully, be quicker in the following chapters. Nagata and Ichigo will take command of the main role, you will understand why later.

I hope this keeps you full for a while - I need a break!

The next chapter should be around the same length, probably five thousand words less, if nobody minds the long chapters, of course.

Thank you for reading!

And if this did not bore you, it'll make me a little happy. :P

**Edit**: Preview to Ch 13 has been posted in my lj. It's short and just a follow up of this one.


	14. Death and His Friends Pt 1

**Chapter Thirteen**,"Death and His Friends" – Part One

Time of Secrecy

Tsukamoto Kazumasa scoured the abandoned fashion magazine lying on the kitchen table of The Lovers' Enchanted Apartment, unperturbed by the dual awakenings occurring beyond the walls of his most comfortable dwelling. Many accessories spoke to him in terms of general visuals, but only few necklaces and earrings caught his fancy as he envisioned them on his lovely wife, who he felt the need to spoil with new clothes and jewelry. He thought of preparing a crop of presents before she arrived home from her trip abroad; vacationing her hometown had become a habit since being Fourth Cycle remnants left them with old fortunes and time with which they could do as they wished. Separate trips were common between them, having had a successful century old marriage things like mutinous jealousy were things of the distant past, worrying especially of cheating was simply out of hand—their bond as a couple transcended many boundaries to reach what it now was. Admiral feat it was, considering Faye was a woman not many would ever come to fully understand, she was quite the lady, a tad difficult, but that was what he loved most.

The quiet murmur of his radio filled the apartment with soothing music apart from the rustling of pages as he started a section within the magazine full of new styles for the season he was certain would suit his wife's beautiful physique. He paused to examine a low cut emerald gown billowing in the wind stylized with golden bangles and an ornate gold necklace. The model's hair fell in spindly curls giving the camera a dainty profile of her slightly freckled face.

"Can't think of an occasion," he murmured, scrutinizing the image with charcoal eyes.

A sudden shock of energy alerted him of the Chariot's awakening and for a moment, his gaze flickered upward. Death had chosen to take custody of the Chariot's human shell and hoped to stall the awakening. The fact left a bitter taste in his mouth. Death had never waited patiently; he rushed by everything like a passing storm. It felt odd, like a cast of dread had fallen over his quiet space. He thought something might be wrong, but shook the thought from his mind. Death was never pointlessly careless.

_CRASH!_

His thoughts disappeared, eyes blinked to the kicked in entrance of his enchanted apartment to the wave of fury causing his body to paralyze at the sight. Tall, slender, voluptuous and very blond stood the second half of The Lovers. Eyes the violent shade of gold flared at him menacingly, hair fell straight around an ugly expression of anger and a strong jaw.

Breathtakingly beautiful as The Lovers' card depicted, Tsukamoto Faye had remorselessly destroyed the enchantments sealing the door in the throes of her indignation.

"_You traitorous bastard!_" she shrilled, speaking in the wrong language with a heavy accent. If the room had not been enchanted to be soundproof, he might have complained about her volume. "_Zis is unaczeptible!_"

Kazumasa closed the magazine calmly and twisted his body on his chair at the kitchen table. "I didn't catch that, love," he said simply. "Can you repeat yourself?"

Infuriated, Faye stomped across the broken door, heels clicking so loudly they exaggerated her fury. Without a thought, she grabbed fistfuls of his stark white shirt and pulled him with unbelievable strength to face her so that their noses nearly touched.

"Arashi has told me you sided with Death!" she seethed, though her Japanese lacked a bit, it had improved. "How dare you betray our loyalty to him and side with that ingrate?"

"Do not call him an ingrate, he's a nice fellow, bit of an attitude problem and superiority complex," he said, words fading into a mere mumble, eyes now averted. "Quite right, you see."

"We swore to break from the mold! Not follow the orders of an Original!" she continued fervently, shaking him with the increase of emotion. "Devil nearly drove us to our death, Nagisa knew not of what she did to our Cycle. Arashi will shatter it, for good, we will be free. We wanted this! You are ruining everything, you traitor!"

Kazumasa gently enveloped her ice-cold hands into his, not detaching them from him, and met her gaze fully. "Death does not trust Arashi."

"He is a mutinous bastard! He kills with every Cycle; we were blessed not to have met him! He wants Nagisa's crown and he will take it when he has rounded us like animals."

Kazumasa shook his head. "I think we judged him incorrectly, Faye. As _mutinous _as you call him, he only wants to exact his revenge and save Nagisa."

"Nagisa can only save herself, batty _whore_."

Faye's dislike of Nagisa stemmed from a simply disagreement of ideas. Faye believed in ongoing slaughter if it meant returning to peace and Nagisa refused to allow blood to spill, asking the few Arcana to trust her decision. Faye recognized her position would be out ruled, but stood by her choice. Her hatred continued increasing when the Originals proved stronger than those who were mere copies of a longstanding curse, and when she realized Nagisa had created their fate, Faye lost it.

"Nagisa died for us, Faye, as she has done repeatedly for all Cycles before ours."

"I do not care! You will side with Arashi! I will not share my power with you if you continue playing with Death!"

Faye gave him no room for contemplation as she forcefully wrenched an arm around his neck and vanished, with him in tow, in a cloud of black smoke, leaving the apartment vacant and broken.

.

.

Faye kicked Kazumasa's backside, forcing him forward into the cold stone floor, drawing the attention of the four other Arcana in the otherwise empty hall. Her husband groaned pathetically, rubbing his lower back as he shot her a furtive look of abhorrence, then turned his attention to the scathing looks he received from the rest of Arashi's entourage, save Kouyou, busied with keeping the Hanged Man under control within a glowing barrier. He smiled at each irritated face affably, not letting his exasperation control his grasp of his emotions, and filled the room with a lighter atmosphere, unappreciated by its inhabitants.

Priestess, a raven-haired girl with a pixie cut and a snobbish face, clung to Arashi's arm. "Who invited the pervert?"

Arashi smiled twistedly. "I wonder if Nagata is treating you kindly, I can always welcome you back, pardon your betrayal. I am quite fond of The Lovers, it's been such a shame you were split between sides."

"Not anymore," said Faye with finality. "He will work here, for us."

Strength's smile only widened. "Good, good," he said easily. "I wanted you to be together when the Hanged Man wakes. It won't be long; he's nearly subdued most his memories by now. Only a few minutes to go, I assume, yes?"

Arashi's inquiry had been directed to Kouyou, silently present, who nodded in affirmation.

Kazumasa sat up, restrained by Faye's vicious glare, and frowned cross-armed and legged, sulking.

"Pervert, pervert, _pervert_," hissed Shimana Yuka, leering at him from across the room, cheek rested on Arashi's shoulder. "I can tell you're changing the ambience, you filthy, filthy pervert."

Osaki Miho cast a wayward glance towards the noisy girl, bothered, but returned her attention to the mobile phone in her hands, texting a mile a minute.

Arashi enjoyed Yuka's childish behavior, smiling amusedly as she taunted Kazumasa. He pardoned her blunders, cleaned up all her messes, and spoiled her inconsequently. Kazumasa suspected she became his favorite after Yurie's death, in terms of ability, she was an important piece to his twisted game of chess, much like Touma was to Death's army, except Touma was, of course, a better piece, stupid, but a thousand times more reliable.

For the record, he was not changing the atmosphere, not anymore at least. The Hanged Man was minutes from awakening, his feeble human body had nearly absorbed the entire reservoir of energy awaiting him, and the strain of it all gave the environment a fuzzy ambience. It was calm, soothing like a spring breeze and that made it harder to stop a string of memories from appearing in his head.

Visions of the Fourth Cycle rushed past his mind's eye. Bone-colored hair twisted over her shoulder, slender fingers threaded through short dark hair sullied with congealed blood. Golden orbs mirrored the pained expression on his face, a deep slash bled profusely, drenching into the soil. He and Faye had been attacked, cornered by Wakatsuki's group of shinigami.

Being reborn to serve the Arcana, they had laws and duties to uphold—oversee all worlds, threats jeopardizing the balance of Soul Society, the concrete power of the Spirit King, deployed the strongest army in his arsenal. Laws they gave up following after the First Cycle's rebellion. Because of the original Arcana, he and Faye had been urged to live peaceful, unknown, human lives, Wakatsuki suspected they wanted to take control of Soul Society and destroy the Spirit King, the entity responsible for their cursed existence.

Wakatsuki passed his sense of judgment on every member of the Arcana, disregarding their decision to remain hidden. He hunted them, found those that wanted to be found and stumbled across the few lying low. The second time he met Nagisa was a moment of great pain, the sort that throbbed so viciously the brain stopped sending signals to the nerves to react. His soul had been split in two, the loss indescribable; the moment his wife had died caused the worst of all pain.

In pieces, gold speckled eyes found the light in Nagisa. "This wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered painfully. "This wasn't supposed to happen." Her pale hands were covered in fresh blood. They were trembling. She was. _Frightened, perhaps_. "Don't stop breathing. Just breathe. Even if it hurts so badly you think it impossible, breathe past the pain." She herself took a deep breath and burdened her shaky legs with the weight of her body. "Faye—I need to—"

Unable to finish the confirmation he feared most, he watched her scamper away, stumbling as she went until she reached the bloodied remains of his wife. Nagisa bent over, hands flat on the concrete, forehead pressed against Faye's abdomen. Her low, inscrutable murmur reached his ears and soon a bright barrier enveloped the two.

Nagisa revived Faye, forbidden kidō. Touched his fingertips and passed her knowledge onto him after healing him. The Priestess was dead; she couldn't save her, arrived too late. Wakatsuki's people had taken her body to Twelfth Division to study, anything to find weakness in them, something with the ability to drive them to extinction. Nagisa urged them to hide.

"…I'll finish this quickly."

But Faye was furious, fueled by the strong desire for revenge. Kill Wakatsuki Hiko, tear him limb from limb until he screamed mercy, mercy that will never come. That's when Touma appeared. They found him in their new home, tinkering with the sparkling objects, smiling widely. Faye attacked him, thinking him a thief, but throughout their one-sided bout, Touma explained he was the Devil Arcana, younger brother to Nagisa, who he assumed they knew. He wanted to get revenge as much as Faye did, urged them in the right direction, mentioned he knew his way around Soul Society—could find an entrance with a snap of his fingers.

Faye agreed. Touma had a way with words—lies easily became truths. Kazumasa merely tagged along, worried of what might occur. The second they sided with Devil, restless with a thirst for blood, everything had gone wrong. Touma's capture in Soul Society was imperative; swarms of shinigami came at them the second they set food because he triggered the security. He was an Original, the youngest, the unknown, the protected—Nagisa spoiled him the most. Arrogant and stupid as he was, defied Nagisa's orders and lunged headfirst into the battlefield.

When the shinigami on standby received orders to apprehend him, using violence was their only option. With swords drawn, a large group of shinigami lunged forward and out of thin air, in a cloud of dark smoke, as Touma prepared to take them on himself, appeared Nagisa, positively furious.

Kazumasa, even in his memories from cycles before the fourth, had never once seen that side of The World. She was calm, collected, perceptive, peaceful, and unbelievably kind. No matter if members opposed or hated her, she never once lost her cool. The sight of her fury was undeniably frightening.

Nagisa shoved Touma out of the way and without moving an inch, in the blink of an eye, the bodies of every shinigami that attempted against his brother lay mangled and bloodied at her feet. The rest stared wide-eyed, helpless.

"_Touch him,_" she said strongly, gesturing to the twitching lumps of flesh. "_Your consequence lays here._"

They fled, screaming in fear, stumbling and running until they disappeared from her field of vision. Touma laughed weakly, but shut up when she turned to glower at him.

"You," she whispered with newfound calm and sweetness. "I asked you to stay with Ageha. Did you forget how to pay attention to my orders? Should I _repeat _them?"

Touma flinched, as did Kazumasa and Faye.

"N-Nah, that's okay. We c-can jus' y'know work somethin' out, eh? Go easy on me, I make mistakes too."

"Then go back _now._"

Kazumasa felt a sharp pain in the back of his head draw him back to the room where he sat with everyone else. He looked around to everyone, each looked equally dazed, the gold that filled their eyes slowly started to disappear along with the barrier surrounding Asano Keigo.

Arashi flinched, wiggling out of Yuka's grip, and rose from his seat.

Kouyou returned the bowler hat to his head and smiled kindly at the sixteen-year-old boy. "I explained to him the laws of the Arcana, he took it as expected."

"_And…?_" pressed Arashi.

"Nagisa holds the crown, as such, his allegiance leans towards her."

Arashi looked abysmally bothered, but smiled, nonetheless. "Yes, of course, she holds the crown now, but not for long," he said nicely. "How about it, Kouyou? You want to side with us. We are a much better option than Death."

"I appreciate the invitation," said Kouyou kindly, "but I must decline. I do not like to participate, merely record as Nagisa asked me to."

"Ah," said Arashi wondrously. "If I were to gain the crown, I would be able to change your mind?"

"Yes, but that is quite a feat for a non-Original." Kouyou tipped his hat with a pleasant air. "My best wishes to you."

He vanished in a burst of black smoke.

Kazumasa and Faye sensed the negativity raging war inside Arashi, though he did well in maintain his cool countenance. Yuka was anxious, Miho was bored, and Asano begun to stir.

"Leave," said Arashi, looking to Miho and Yuka.

Yuka leaned forward in her seat. "But—"

"Leave!"

Miho shrugged, disappeared in a snap.

Yuka fidgeted a bit before doing the same.

Kazumasa kept his eyes on the teenage boy, as Faye swept past him, towards Arashi, a look of concern adorned her beautiful features. She doted on the brat, he noticed, but not the reasons why.

The confusion felt by Asano Keigo when his eyes snapped open to the dark unfamiliarity and a room full of strangers trumped the negative energy Arashi exuded, allowing Kazumasa enough time to shut off his emotional receptors.

"Hey there, Asano-senpai," greeted Arashi pleasantly.

"What's going on?" Keigo asked, panicking, a provocation away from a heart attack.

"Watanabe-san explained the Arcana to you, didn't he?" Arashi looked at his companion curiously.

Keigo's eyes widened; a mixture of panic and confusion furrowed his features. "How do you know about that dream?"

"Because that wasn't a dream," he said soothingly. "You were chosen by destiny. This life is a beautiful thing, but it is also quite dangerous. You'll need a bit of training before you'll be able to face off against the shinigami."

"_Shinigami?"_ he shouted outrageously, scrambling onto his feet. "What? This is crazy!"

Arashi blinked, an annoying buzz surrounded his aura. "I don't need to explain this to you, do I? You already know about the shinigami and Soul Society and how your friend Kurosaki Ichigo had been involved with them, right?" He laughed suddenly. "I mean, you went through that Aizen stunt. Pretty half-hearted I tell you, if he wanted to find his match he could have just—"

Kazumasa watched him intently, a gaze that did not go unnoticed by the irritable brat. He understood the ambitious adolescent had put himself in tier with Aizen Sōsuke, a man who singlehandedly attempted to manipulate his way up the stepladder and was by no means a pushover when it came to fighting. If the Arcana had been functioning according to their duties, Aizen would have been snuffed out as a kid, no second-guessing or waiting a couple years for him to grow out of his sociopathic mentality. He would simply cease to exist. But they weren't interested in him. Not yet, at least.

"—that's not important," finished Arashi swiftly, face unchanging. "You'll just have to deal with it because if you go against your Fate, well, I think you probably know what happens, right?"

Daunted by the concrete truths in his mind, Keigo stared at the younger teenager before him, paralyzed by the fear of accepting the circumstances of being a member of the Arcana. But he remembered the calm voice that spoke to him in the frightening labyrinth, _"…If you ever come to doubt the Arcana's place among good and evil, choose the side you are willing to die for. This cycle is and will remain broken, no matter who tells you otherwise."_

This is real.

* * *

Faceless soldiers in heavy armor lunged towards the girl standing in the center of the wasted street, brandishing their weapons threateningly as she flicked the tall tarot card upward. It burst into a thousand pieces and instantly scattered with a forceful gust of wind. Flecks of ash fluttered in the air and tangled in the flurry of her gold speckled hair as a loud whistling reached her ears.

"Are you insane?" shouted Tatsuki from behind a clutter of stone debris and broken planks. "They'll kill you!"

It was kind of Arisawa Tatsuki to worry about her because she had experienced the world of pain these faceless monsters had delivered to her and not for the obvious reasons. But there was no reason for her concern; she was more than capable of ridding the street of the entire army without lifting a finger. She only needed to borrow the Devil's abilities.

"I'll be okay," she assured the upperclassman.

The inhuman growls resonated beyond the vast destruction as they drew closer with every slow moving second. She watched listlessly, waiting with utmost patience. The glint of their weapons caused immediate apprehension for the dark haired girl that struggled to find a way to change her mind, but she couldn't manage to speak properly due to the heavy injuries she had sustained.

Just as the first spear was thrust at her, the sharp end barely made it one inch away from her face when a small explosion snapped the weapon in half. This was the start of various other heat-induced detonations that jumped from metal to metal, ridding them of their weaponry as howling screams reverberated across the stretch of stormy black skies. When the broken weapons slid from their holds, a glittering sparkle shone in the stream of opaque light before a fire encircled all of the faceless men. Many attempted to rush past the barrier, unafraid, but the second they crossed the flaming circle, they were engulfed by strong black flames that slowly charred the skin off their bones and reduced what remained to a mere piles of bones and ashes.

Haruka left no room for reaction time before a swirl of powerful energy swept through each solider before their bodies bloated one limb at a time until one by one they burst. Whatever remained of them was charred by the fire that rolled towards the center of the circle before disappearing.

She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and turned to see Tatsuki wobbling towards her with her hand gripping her broken left arm. There was a cross of emotions displayed in her expression—fear, astonishment, and relief.

"W-What was that?" Tatsuki's voice was extremely shaky.

Haruka watched the girl fall onto her knees and cough violently.

"Stay still and listen," Haruka said quietly. "Ten hours ago, there was an accident that killed you." She paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing. "Your body outside this world is dead; a part of you is still alive here and because of it, you can and will live again."

Tatsuki lifted her eyes from the ground bleary and weak. Taken by vertigo, it was getting harder to breathe within the thick atmosphere, let alone speak. If she had questions, it was best to stay rational and ask them if she ever woke up out of this nightmare.

Somehow, she didn't like the sound of dying, but she'd like to meet the person who did.

Haruka stepped forward before her body started to split into dozens of colorful flowers that swept to the dark clouds shielding a violent orange sky and shattered through it just as a tiny smile appeared on her face.

.

.

Tsukino Atsuko stood at the back entrance of the ryokan, glaring at the three young men as they skulked through the darkness thinking they had gotten away with murder, lugging around two unconscious girls, but were met with the flowery sight of Haruka's livid grandmother. Judging by the impenetrable darkness all around, Nagata understood the visitors and staffers of the establishment had gone to bed.

Everyone stopped upon setting foot on the verandah, Touma and Ichigo looking guilty of whatever crimes Tsukino's accusatory eyes deemed them of, and Nagata strode towards the front, blameless. Ichigo's glare burned at the back of his head.

"Doing rounds, Tsukino-san?" he asked cordially.

"As hilarious as it may be to render teenage girls unconscious, I expected more from you, Nagata," said Tsukino, disappointed. "Does Haruka need a doctor?" She cast an indifferent look in Tatsuki's direction. "And the new one?"

Something about the casual tone of Tsukino's voice made Ichigo bristle in discomfort. Nagata watched his jaw clench in his periphery, Touma yawned loudly.

"No," said Nagata. "They just fell asleep. Arisawa will be staying here a bit."

Tsukino's temperament worsened, but she did not let it show. "Put them to bed. The bathhouse is still open if either one of you is interested."

With that, Haruka's grandmother slipped back into her ryokan.

Nagata led the way back to the Chrysanthemum room and tossed the futons on the ground, sure about isolating the girls and shoving three futons into the smallest room. Ichigo stared awkwardly at the brothers as together they sifted through drawers for clothes, muttering back and forth.

"…so stop bringing it up," cursed Nagata.

"But you—"

Touma had a shirt slapped into his face, silencing him quickly. The redhead picked himself off the ground, dressed into something comfortable and sulked until he fell asleep. Nagata had to kick him a couple times because his whining wouldn't let him sleep, he was surprised how quiet Ichigo's corner was and assumed he had fallen asleep. So, he did as well.

* * *

Nagata kicked Ichigo awake at 5:20AM, barely giving his grogginess enough time to fade when he tossed him a navy blue _jinbei_ [**1**] that he recognized was worn by the male staff. The first thought that crossed his mind was the obvious one—_he wants me to work?_—that followed a convenient blame—_probably for all the shit he's wrecked too_. When Ichigo rubbed his eyes, he realized Nagata was already in uniform, looking as though he had eight healthy hours of sleep.

Ichigo noticed the vacant futon nearby. "Where's Touma?"

"He's got kitchen duties," replied Nagata. "Hurry up and get dressed, we've got weeds to pull."

"Weeds?"

"Well," started Nagata. "Around the time I started making plans for your training—"

"—_Training?_"

"If you want to stay a complete fucking loser the rest of your life, interrupt me again, but if you want me to waste even a smidgen of my time towards handing your shinigami powers to you on a silver platter, I say you sit tight and shut up." Ichigo frowned disapprovingly of the obvious lie, as Nagata had already explained the only option he could think of to return his powers had the potential of causing death.

Nagata ignored his annoyed expression and went on, picking up the story where interrupted. "Tsukino-san intercepted my path, hounded me on Wakatsuki's standing with the three of us. Touma suggested we freak her out, saying we're her three husbands, reverse-Mormon, and how we're trying to get her pregnant before she dies and shit, but I know crap like that barely fazes her. Instead, I said none of us want in with her granddaughter—okay, Touma and I don't—"

"I don't want _in _with Wakatsuki!" defended Ichigo, catching the clear hint and sparkle in Death's eyes.

"Look Kurosaki, no one's judging you," said Nagata, in a brotherly tone. "Teenage hormones, everyone goes through them, I've been there, five times in a single lifetime—complete bullshit—and you don't really care who it is so long as it's a she and comes with a functioning vag—"

Ichigo shouted, no words, just loud enough to block out the rest of his "no-judgment" speech. Hearing about hormones and anything intercourse-related from Nagata drew the line between appropriate and inappropriate conversation. He would choose to relive his father's version of a "sex talk" than listen to Nagata or Touma give detailed, disturbing, and crude advice.

"I get it, Kurosaki, you don't have to feel ashamed about _liking_—and I use this term loosely, it could be romantic or non-romantic with a fixation for shapes and sizes—Wakatsuki."

By then, he was wide-awake and scrambling onto his feat to pull on the uniform in the hopes his mind produced a barrier capable of blocking out Nagata's amused voice. He never considered the idea of liking Wakatsuki romantically, let alone go further, and even if he _liked _Wakatsuki in that sense, he would _never_ consult Nagata. The Housen brothers were a pair of perverts, and that alone was evident.

"I told Grandma Tsukino that we aren't trying to hit that, and you know what she said? '_So, what? Haruka's not good enough for you pack of assholes?_'" Ichigo's attention snapped back to Death, incredulous. Nagata nodded. "Serious shit, though, _ver-fucking-batim_. Talking her outta the mentality proved to be a real bitch and somehow, we ended up having to repay for our own expenses. Arisawa can stay if she claims to be Wakatsuki's best friend, but I can tell Tsukino didn't buy that lie either. Shoulda seen the way she looked at me? I can see why Wakatsuki avoided this place like the plague."

Ichigo stepped out after Nagata, peeking into the adjacent rooms where both girls had been isolated to lessen his concerns over them. Tatsuki was sleeping, Nagata called it the backdrop of freezing her clock, and she needed plenty of rest. Haruka was lying on her stomach, chin rested on her pillow, arms outstretched, playing a new game in her PSP. He greeted her, but she meekly slipped under her blankets.

They were meant to clean the courtyard out back, pull weeds, pick up trash, and then, move onto the storage shed, which was filled with cobwebs and infested with insects.

"The best part about this, it's all gonna work out with your training."

Nagata grinned at his incredulity.

.

.

Weeding proved annoying around an hour into the process.

"Why did Touma get kitchen duties?"

"Because Touma, having spent years in practical solitude, took it upon himself to attend culinary school fifty years ago," said Death. "Nobody should ever be that bored."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of fiery red and pursued it unconsciously. Touma exited the main building carrying a rectangular container toppled with freshly washed vegetables, wearing the same navy blue _jinbei_ with a bandana tied around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes. Behind him, a teenage part-time _nakai_ [**2**] followed him shyly, dark eyes glued to the floor. He looked engrossed in conversation, smiling from ear to ear, and occasionally, the girl's face flushed a deep crimson.

"Get back to work!" snapped Nagata.

Ichigo grumbled beneath his breath, returning his eyes to his gloved hands and then to the weeds sprouting out of the soil.

_How the hell is this a part of training?_

.

.

Once the weeds had successfully been pulled out, Tsukino asked them to pick the strawberries and deliver them to the kitchen staff immediately. Ichigo took the far end of the strawberry rows, closest to the neighboring farmland owned by an old couple. Nagata crouched down near the establishment.

"Only pick the right ones!"

"I got it!"

Nagata explained to him a dozen times that if they were plump, firm, and fully red, it meant they were ready. While fumbling through the greenery in search of bright red berries to pick, he heard his stomach growl and realized he hadn't eaten that morning.

He caught Nagata stuffing strawberries into his mouth. "You're eating them?"

Death nearly choked, caught off guard, and jerked towards him. "I gotta eat."

"We're supposed to take these to the kitchen!"

"Nobody cares how many are missing, just that they get their stupid strawberries! 'Sides, I saw you eyeing them…you're hungry too. Go on, take one, you know you want to."

Ichigo resisted the urge and picked the most fruit.

.

.

The nightmare that was the storage shed took the entire afternoon to clean.

"I found another one, here you go."

Something small and spindly legged landed softly on the nape of his neck. Ichigo slapped it off furiously. "Stop throwing spiders at me!"

"Well, you do a much better job at killing them," said Nagata complacently. "Besides, I don't want their children to show up for revenge when they're full-fledged spiders. You gotta be careful with that shit."

"They're just spiders!"

Nagata gave him a dull look. "Well, duh. I don't see why you're complaining so much about me tossing them at you!"

"One of them bit me!"

"We'll just be grateful it wasn't poisonous."

Ichigo proceeded to heave a medium-sized box into a stockpile in the back of the storage. He stacked them while Nagata focused on sweeping the dust off the floor and the cobwebs from the dark ceiling.

"How the hell does this even tie in to training?" snapped Ichigo, fed up after another spider nearly sank its sharp teeth into his neck. He swatted it off in time and stomped it before it scurried away.

"I'm teaching you responsibility," said Nagata matter-a-factly.

"How's that helping?"

"I like independent people with good morals and a faithful sense of judgment."

It sounded good, especially coming from Nagata, but he often proved to be an unreliable source. Ichigo couldn't shake the contradicting thoughts and flood of suspicion.

"That so?" he asked easily.

"Nagisa always said that if you can't confidently believe in something, you'll be shit out of luck later," answered Nagata, serious. "'Course, she had a nicer way of saying it. The easily manipulated are useless in battle; they're more prone to failure. That's why I'm taking the time to train you, completely unbiased, because you will ultimately return home. D'you get it?"

He mulled it over a while, but grasped the concept easily. "So, I'm basically a pig raised for slaughter?"

Death clapped with a bright smile. "You're not dumb at all!"

"Both you and Touma seem convinced that I'm going to choose Soul Society over protecting Haruka—"

"Self-righteous people like you always choose the side less botched by violence and blood."

"Soul Society has a bloody history, I know that already!" said Ichigo heatedly. "But I plan to take Haruka with me. I'm not going to let anyone hurt her!"

Nagata let the broom clatter noisily on the creaking floor. "You'd be taking Haruka into the lion's den! Nobody in Soul Society wants her alive and will opt to eliminate her the moment they realize it. She needs to stay here in the World of the Living and be peaceful for as long as she can."

"Then what the hell is she? Why does everyone want to kill her so badly?" he snapped. "Is she that harbinger of peace you've been barking about? Or is it much bigger? She isn't telling me, either, so why don't you and Touma just cut the crap and say it!"

Death grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him to eyelevel. "I am not jeopardizing her and neither are you. Stick to what you're good at, watch her temporarily, train hard with me—you'll get your powers back before the Thirteenth Arcana awakens, before war, and I'll reward you, make you much stronger than you are now. When Soul Society retrieves you, you leave Haruka behind, I'm going to be your opponent, got it? And I don't fight the useless, I kill them."

He released him harshly. Ichigo fell into the stacked up boxes, only hurting himself as he staggered to regain equilibrium and glared balefully at Death. "What the hell did Soul Society do to you?"

Nagata glowered ominously, turned, and vanished beyond the shelter doors.

.

.

"Tsukino-san wants us to have lunch with the staff."

Ichigo stepped into Haruka's room, drying his damp hair. It was pitch black inside and Haruka lost within the stretch of darkness. He flipped the switch and the room flooded with light. He found Haruka sitting in the farthest corner of the large room, forehead pressed where both walls met, bent forward to observe her twitching fingers. Wet hair clung to her face, the tips dripping water onto the too-baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts.

"Wakatsuki?"

She said nothing.

"Are you feeling okay?"

She nodded that time. Had he looked away, he might have missed it.

"You're probably just hungry, we should go eat."

"No."

The soft voice that reached his ears was like a meek whisper, sounded insignificant and fading. In his present setting, he was unsure of what actions to take. He figured his presence may be a hindrance as he took one step out.

"I'll bring something back for you."

He reached to close the doors when she spoke again.

"Can you turn off the light?"

"Uhh, yeah."

He did. A thick blackness fell and he locked it away with the clasps of the sliding doors.

.

.

Ichigo found Haruka holding her head between her knees when he brought food for her. She had been muttering to herself again, stopped immediately the second the shoji slid open and tensed. Something was definitely wrong, prying wouldn't help and he imagined offering her a sketchbook and color pencils would make everything worse. Instead, he approached her aloofly after switching on the light to see balls of paper lying across the room, broken charcoal, and pencils snapped in half. He had almost forgotten to shut the door, but Touma's raucous voice in the hall tipped him off.

He sat down with the tray on his lap, staring up to the ceiling as she looked down at the ground.

"Did you get to finish off that boss in the second level?" he started insouciantly.

"No," she answered quietly, her tone hollow and distant.

"You'll beat it. Eventually."

She whined pitifully, daunted by the idea of forever being stuck and never finishing the game.

The next seconds were used in contemplation. Ichigo wondered if she wanted to eat now and glanced to the huddled teenager at his side. Realizing he was so close he could smell her shampoo, Ichigo scooted away and placed the tray between them. The glass of freshly squeezed orange juice nearly toppled over the rest of her dinner, which consisted of "health food" (christened by Touma) to reenergize her. It hardly looked healthy. It was a pancake smothered with strawberry jam, lathered in syrup, and scrambled eggs sprinkled with pepper. He filled the empty corners with all forms of junk food and a slice of cherry pie with a tear of whip cream. There were two chocolate bars stacked in a corner and round, colorful candy surrounding her pie.

_"…Then, you can tell her __**you **__made it," _Touma had whispered shamelessly.

_"This is supposed to be dinner, not breakfast."_

_"She hasn't eaten. Make sure you get her to finish this."_

Why were Nagata and Touma so determined to force feelings on him?

Something light and cold landed on top of his hand. His gaze fell to the thin fingers curling over his hand, hidden with the sleeve of Nagata's maroon sweater.

Ichigo felt his cheeks burn, embarrassed, and turned away. His fingers twitched beneath her cold touch, feeling the awkwardness bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Then, breaking the silence, she said, "You can have the chocolate."

He glanced in her direction once more, staring at the loose sweater sagging over her slight frame, and wondered why she had yet to return it to Nagata.

Haruka's feathery touch slid across the top of his hand, leaving it ice-cold. She lifted her head, picked up her fork, and cut up the jam-filled pancake. She stabbed it, enjoying the sight of syrup gushing out and leaned forward to stuff the piece into her mouth.

For a moment, she looked surprised, as she had not expected it to be edible considering Touma prepared it. She squeezed ketchup over her scrambled eggs, unfolded the pancake and tossed some inside, earning a disgusted glance from Ichigo.

"That looks horrible."

Haruka smiled and went on eating.

"That really does look gross."

"Don't look at it," she said, quieting as she chewed and swallowed her food. "It's really good." She grabbed his hand and placed a chocolate bar in it. "Have this."

"You don't want it?"

"I don't like chocolate."

"None at all?"

"None."

Ichigo peeled back the wrapper and bit off a piece.

"You can eat my chocolate, then." She smiled. "You want some of my eggs?"

"I already ate."

"But you're eating chocolate now."

"Well, you're not gonna eat it. It's a waste."

"They come in wrappers for a reason." Haruka took a gulp of orange juice. "You could have just kept it in your pocket."

"I know that."

The atmosphere in the room had lightened. The corner of her lips tweak upward, so brightly he felt himself smile.

"How are you feeling?" asked Ichigo.

"Better now."

He took another bite of the chocolate, turning away. "You know, we can go back to the pool again, if you want."

"Even if we have to break in?"

"We could at least try to go when it's open."

Haruka frowned. "Could be crowded…"

One look in her direction, Ichigo sighed, "Fine, even if we have to break in. Hurry up and finish, you have to rest."

* * *

It felt like floating over the ocean's surface on a sunny day. Her body's warmth filled her with unmeasured comfort and muffled the voices ringing in her head. She felt as though she could continue floating in this cool vast surface forever, but reality set in quickly.

Haruka's fingers twitched under the thick fabric of the futon. A hair slid across her face as a breeze slipped into the room from somewhere nearby, and as the buzzing sound started to disappear; she heard voices outside her bedroom. Only snippets came to her.

"—again, Ichigo!" snapped Arisawa Tatsuki. "Don't you ever learn?"

"Wait—Tatsuki!" shouted Ichigo, scrambling onto his feet. "You don't—"

The sound of retreating footsteps soon faded.

A door slid open as she willed her heavy eyelids to part and face a dark ceiling scrawled with dancing shadows.

"I like her," said Nagata. "A bit of a spitfire."

"Well, I don't," said Touma. "She could rip me a new one."

"Chariot, eh?" Nagata chuckled amusedly. "She probably can."

Haruka still felt sleepy.

"_Probably?_" said Touma. "She can and that's that."

The rustling of clothes sounded as one of the two brothers sank into a seat.

"How's our princess holding up?" asked Nagata.

_Princess…?_

"Not waking up."

"…We're shit outta luck with that one, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Touma said quietly. "She really is something else. Outsmarted us all."

Haruka's eyelids were beginning to droop; bit by bit, the slight outline of the ceiling began disappearing behind a sheet of darkness.

"What do you suggest we do with her?"

Touma's voice was distant now, she was sure what she had just heard was the echo of something far, far away.

"She needs to be home, live as long as she can, and get the fuck out of the middle." Nagata's usually gruff tone seemed to have softened in the distance. "Nobody needs to know about her."

"Not even Kouyou? I mean, he could totally be listening in from one of his bus stops, you know how he is."

"Nobody can enter this room without permission."

"Barrier?"

"I had Kazumasa place it, so nobody can eavesdrop either."

"Nice. So how's Faye doin'?"

"That crazy bitch—"

"Same as always, I presume."

"A complete fucking mess."

"Must be nice to have a partner to share your Arcana with," sighed Touma, almost longingly.

"Doubt it. She bitches him day in and out."

* * *

Haruka fumbled through the darkness for something to drink the next time she woke up, but found nothing in her surroundings. There were voices outside. Tatsuki, Ichigo, and Touma were all talking over something, but it all sounded like complete nonsense to her.

"That's the second table you've broken, how much do you think they cost?" snapped Touma. "I worked five extra hours for Tuesdays table!"

"I don't care!" retorted Tatsuki. "I'll break this one too if you don't tell me where we are!"

"Kyoto! Are you stupid or some—?"

"Wait—the food!" shouted Ichigo, but there was a loud crash in the adjacent room. Wood splintering apart, liquid spilling and plates shattering sounded noisily. "Tatsuki!"

"My hand slipped!"

"Your hand didn't slip! You honestly tried to kill me! Didja see how high she flung that thing?"

Haruka attempted to sit, but her entire body was aching. She fell back immediately and groaned. The noise in the neighboring room suddenly seized and the door slid open noisily.

"Wakatsuki?"

Haruka lifted her head to see Ichigo sitting beside his dark-haired classmate covered in fresh cuts and bruises.

"Water," she croaked softly.

Ichigo got to his feet as she laid her head back on the pillow and listened to his footsteps approaching. He returned with bottled water he unconsciously uncapped for her and handed it to her. She carefully lifted her head again and took large gulps to soak her dry throat. She thanked him quietly, put aside the water, and noticed the wrinkle in his forehead.

"There's food—"

"—Well, there was until _somebody_—"

"Shut up!"

Everyone had talked all at once.

"Where is Nagata?" she asked quietly.

"Bath," Ichigo answered.

"I want to see him."

The wrinkle deepened. "What for?"

Haruka felt too weak still. Her body didn't want to work as her brain commanded. It just wanted to lay there asleep and never wake up. She had only been waking up to bathe, hoping the hot water might give her a jumpstart, get her motivated again.

"I want to see him," she repeated firmly.

Bright blue eyes faltered as they scoured Ichigo's expression for more emotion, but quickly fell to the "Indecent Pervert" slandered over his t-shirt. He noticed. She very swiftly tugged up the blanket to touch the tip of her chin.

"Hey!" he snapped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"…You're the indecent pervert here."

Tatsuki snorted.

Touma burst out laughing.

"That's not true! It's just a t-shirt!"

"…And you're wearing it a bit proudly!" chortled Tatsuki beneath her breath.

"Tatsuki!"

Ichigo glared at the laughing table.

Haruka twisted under the blankets lazily, eyes fluttering as they adjusted to the bright lights in the connecting room. A small smile played across her lips.

"You hungry Wakatsuki?"

As painfully empty as her stomach was, Haruka felt no inclination to consume any food and shook her head at the suggestion. "No."

"You haven't eaten in days, Wakatsuki," Ichigo said. "You should eat something."

Haruka didn't hear days because she felt hours. It hadn't been long before she had first fallen asleep. Days couldn't have passed without her knowing and she wouldn't feel as exhausted as she still did.

Ichigo let out an exasperated grunt as he left the room. "I'll get Nagata."

.

.

Ichigo ran into Nagata as he exited the public bath rubbing his blond hair dry with a hand towel.

"You should be sleeping Kurosaki," said Nagata in a bored tone. "We've got a 4:00AM start tomorrow."

Ichigo pretended not to hear that and quickly relayed Haruka's message. "She wants to see you."

"Who?" asked Nagata, bumping shoulders with the teenager as he returned to the Chrysanthemum room.

"Wakatsuki," said Ichigo, catching up to Death's stride with a slight sprint.

"Oh, she's awake and coherent?" he said, sounding believably nonplussed. It was he, admittedly, the one that predicted it would be a couple more days before their favorite human being regained consciousness, again, a backdrop to her freezing Tatsuki's Arcana clock. "Good," he continued, tone changing to sound quite condescending. "Any longer and I'd start planning the funeral."

Ichigo eyebrows crossed dangerously, mouth opening. "Why—"

"Joke, Kurosaki." Nagata showed him a toothy grin, but it only lasted seconds before his face turned as dark as his tone of voice. "I won't see her."

"Why not?" Ichigo almost snapped.

Haruka woke up knowing she had something serious to talk about with Nagata, yet he wasn't even going to bother giving her the time of day, even after she went as far as doing his job for him. Ichigo couldn't help feeling this was more than a bit unfair.

"Not your problem."

Nagata curtly dismissed himself when the corridor split in three, instead of turning right, the route leading directly to the Chrysanthemum room, leaving Ichigo in the center, mystified.

Ichigo returned to the room. Touma and Tatsuki were bickering over a boxing match they found on television, both apparently shared similar interests. A litter of snacks covered the ground around them and the round table remained equally broken. He swore he had only been gone shortly, though it seemed like hours with the apparent mess.

"That was clearly a technicality," defended Tatsuki.

"He's an underdog, a pretty damn bad one at that."

"He's a professional; he's been doing this for four years. He's gotten far in the championship, too. You just hate him."

"Keep it down," snapped Ichigo as he jumped over empty candy wrappers and plastic bags. He received wayward looks from the two, but that didn't stop their argument from persisting.

Ichigo sidled into the adjacent room and squinted in the darkness to see Haruka lying on her side with the blankets cast off her sickly body. "Nagata's gone."

Silence greeted him.

Haruka gathered the strength to seat herself over the futon. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, her face gaunt and arms thinner than they were previously. She looked like she could be snapped in half effortlessly. Her arms trembled underneath the weight of her body, but her expression was unchanging.

"Okay," she said quietly, gathering her body to stand.

Her legs trembled, numb after being unconscious for so long, and she stumbled forward, might have fallen if Ichigo had not swept an arm over her. He hoisted her up, looking concerned. She quickly drew her arm from his hand, an embarrassed flush colored her face. She wanted to melt into sand that instant.

"I'm going to the bathhouse."

"Should I go with—?"

"No," she said, eyeing his t-shirt cautiously. The words blared at her like an announcement, all Ichigo needed was a neon arrow hovering over his head following him everywhere. "I promise not to drown."

Ichigo's face flushed. "That's not what I meant!"

Haruka took a different exit. Having other people see her in the state she was in made her incredibly self-conscious. She avoided the popular routes to the office at the other end of the ryokan to speak to her grandmother, who was luckily alone making accounts. Tsukino heard her request and arranged to have the woman's bathhouse cleared out for cleaning, so Haruka could enjoy a bit of privacy. She appreciated it, but felt the sudden urge to cry as she realized she was standing in the center of a cluttered room filled with desks lit by fluorescent lights.

There were nakai running back and forth along the corridors, cleaning rooms, delivering lunch, and sharing gossip. There were so many rooms in the establishment, but there was nowhere she could go and hide for the rest of her life. She wanted to disappear, wanted to be somewhere safe, away from the unfamiliar walls and smells. She wanted to be home, playing with her PSP, enjoying bloody zombie movies in the dark, and lying on her comfortably plush bed. She hated how badly her back hurt after having slept on the futon for so long.

Haruka went to the bathhouse accompanied by her grandmother, who helped her clean up as she had years ago. She scrubbed her back gently as if not to break her and massaged shampoo through her hair. Tsukino pulled back the sleeves of her kimono and wore a mask of complete unknown, but Haruka divulged her grandmother's thoughts through actions. Careful about scrubbing too hard, making sure the water was warm, not hot, and drying her hair delicately.

Frail to the touch.

Haruka soaked in warm water for half an hour, alone. Listened to a dripping faucet, enjoyed the warmth of the water, and stared up at the high ceilings, at the clouds of vapor. She imagined becoming air, forever moving, never still and regretted the state of her life.

Sick and dying. Never really okay. Never quite anything but vast emptiness.

Fighting a losing battle.

Speaking to the mother that passed away years ago. Losing her mind.

Worried next time she talks to Sara, she may be killing herself.

Haruka slipped out of the water, wrapped a towel over her body and started walking towards the adjacent room to change into clean clothes, but she started seeing two of everything. She bumped into the doorframe, falling forward onto the ground hard and the world went spinning round and round until the blur of color blinded her. She saw nothing and then, came a wave of pain.

Gasping painfully, Haruka forced her body onto her back, as her teeth clamped and her body rippled in convulsions. An explosion of pain filled her head, disrupting an abrupt train of thought.

_"Should I go with—?"_

_"No, I promise not to drown."_

Listless eyes rolled onto the back of her head.

_Kurosaki._

.

.

"Is she gone?" whispered Nagata, peeking through an aperture into the Chrysanthemum room.

Tatsuki eyed him like the biggest creep, as he now expected of her, that and the fact that she got along well with Touma and ignored him for being a bit of an "_asshole_"—okay, _a lot of an asshole._

He slipped inside, catching Ichigo glaring at him too. Everyone seemed so hostile these days.

"What's your problem with Wakatsuki anyway?" asked Tatsuki, aloud.

_Ha!_

"None of your business, sweetpie."

Tatsuki's face expressed the utmost repugnance, which made him proud. "Don't call me that."

"Wakatsuki should be back soon," replied Ichigo lazily.

"Ehh, I'm gonna go pretend I'm sleeping." Nagata took a few steps towards the stretch of rooms. "Remember we've got an early star—"

Abruptly, the world drained of color and his body froze mid-step, a single glance at Touma proved he felt the same daunting, creeping sensation pinching up their spines. A splitting headache followed. Simultaneously, their hands shot up to cradle throbbing heads, Nagata reached for the wall to maintain his equilibrium and Touma bent forward with a pained voice.

"What—?

"Where's Wakatsuki?" snapped Nagata, struggling past the pain.

Tatsuki felt a sharp pain in the back of her head like a nail being hammered straight into her brain. "What's going—?" The next wave hurt twice as hard. "_Shit!_"

"Did something happen to Wakatsuki?"

Touma dragged himself off the ground and staggered toward the entrance. He practically threw open the doors, forcing his body to rush forward wordlessly. Nagata followed, pushing past him when he caught up in the hall. Ichigo felt his stomach flip; the realization dawned on him slowly.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!_

Ichigo burst after them, knowing they were all running towards the bathhouse. Tatsuki peeked out the doorway, worriedly. "What's going on?"

"It's Wakatsuki!" he shouted.

When the bathhouse came into view, there were guests and staff members crowding outside, whispering fearfully amongst themselves. Nagata shoved past them, fighting against the piercing headache. A frightened waitress sat before Haruka's still body.

Touma and Ichigo had appeared at the doorway, Tatsuki shortly after to see Nagata grabbing a hold of the cold body lying in the ground. He slapped her cheeks, gripped her face. "Come on, Wakatsuki, you were fine. Now's not the time."

"I already called an ambulance," whispered the waitress.

Nagata nodded, but the desperation was evident in his voice. "How fast will they be here?"

"I d-dunno." The girl shrunk beneath his gaze.

"Forget it." Death got onto his feet with Haruka in his arms. "I can get her there faster."

"Wait!"

He didn't bother listening to protests, or familiar shouts, he broke into a sprint and started towards the nearest corridor void of human eyes. The second he turned the corner, he concentrated hard, and vanished in wisps of smoke, before the others showed up.

.

.

Bright lights blurred as her body moved quickly, resting on something that made her body convulse with pain.

The life was being sucked out of her body. She felt it. Nothing the doctor at her side or his assistants could do anything about it.

_Thirty minutes…_

That was the only life she had left…and for a split second, she couldn't accept it.

_No._

* * *

[**1**] _jinbei _– consists of a kimono top (short sleeved or sleeveless that falls to the hips) and matching pair of shorts (we know what these look like), used as nightwear or house wear, and at times are worn during festivals as substitutes for yukata; summer clothing.

[**2**] _nakai_ – ryokan waitress.

* * *

_**Thanks**_** to**: _Noah and ruler of dragons for reviewing the previous chapter._

_Noah: I am glad that you were able to enjoy my story thus far, as for the smut, I can't promise any yet as I feel Haruka and Ichigo are nowhere near that level of comfort. I admit, the idea gave me a good laugh. :)_

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Short.

My internet's being a bitch, been going on and off all afternoon. I bet it's going to go off.

..._Yep, it did._

The next chapter features two new Arcana: Star and Emperor. They are Bleach characters, so, have a guess at who they are. :) It can really be anyone, but some good thought might lead you to the right ones.

A big secret is also revealed and things will turn harsh.

_The internet went off twice now._

I'm done. Thank you for reading!


	15. Death and His Friends Pt 2

**Chapter Fourteen**,"Death and His Friends" – Part Two

Arcana at Odds

It reached everyone universally, a feeling that wrapped around their beings and tightened, squeezing the life out of them, and just as a foreign burst of energy tangled itself to them, the Arcana was bound. Everyone's presence and location blinked into their mind with a single thought and unspoken words flowed into their ears. Yet nobody quite understood it.

A splitting headache wracked their brains.

Yuka, Miho, Faye, and Keigo dropped to the ground, crying out painfully as each wave ached more than the last. The five had gathered, Arashi included, in another deserted building where a barrier strong enough to withhold all varying energies was erected. Passerby saw an empty plot, the spiritually inclined saw the wreckage, shinigami and hollow saw what they expected to see. The Lovers Arcana were specifically sought out for that reason; they had a certain affinity for the Dark Arts on par with the Magician, not quite as powerful, but with an easiness that was hard to come by.

Arashi gathered them, though forced Keigo to accept his invitation to attend, and everyone rounded up on their newest addition. The thing he hated most about newly awakened Arcana was the obvious teaching of the ropes. Most of the information was relayed to them automatically with the reawakening of memories, though some had difficulty—they needed time, lots of it, for the broken pieces and blocked out revelations to show—and the subject of reacquainting them with their ancient power wasted too much time and he wasn't quite as patient as he should have been.

Lingering humanity and all—burdensome traits remained even after awakenings.

Asano Keigo was the poster boy of bad traits. He squirmed, shouted, protested, and made a thousand excuses when Arashi appeared at his doorway asking him kindly to follow him. His objections had been so loud they attracted the attention of his older sister, Mizuho, who immediately questioned Arashi's relation to her brother.

Arashi smiled amicably, "_We're friends, Keigo-senpai and myself, good friends._"

So, when Mizuho learned that Arashi was trying to get her brother out of his house, she practically forced him out. He complained all the way to the building, but his reaction to the premise of Faye's teachings was what really set him off.

But that's when it happened. The four Arcana standing before him all dropped down in pain. He barely felt a twinge radiating in the back of his head through the newly formed connection between them.

"What?"

"S-Somebody—" Faye chocked, trying to force her body off the ground. "What is this?"

Yuka had been reduced to tears. Miho's energy spiked as if she were trying to use her ability to stop whatever it was that was happening.

"I don't understand."

The inflicted pain had not reached him.

Frowning, Arashi knew something was wrong.

.

.

Kazumasa spent his time rubbing the bright red handprint on his cheek. The Lovers had been summoned by Arashi, Faye tried forcing him into attending, but he refused in the kindest way possible, and that had earned him the slap. He tried passing the time by watching bad television, something he could laugh about, but couldn't get into it when his head filled with vibrant thoughts and then, he felt a harsh stab of ache in the back of his head.

Unbearable. Excruciating. Disturbing.

He searched for the source, found it quickly, and vanished in a cloud of smoke to pursue it.

.

.

Kouyou blinked, golden hued eyes dimming until the specks started disappearing, and fell back into a cushion seat surrounded with bookshelves filled with books that stretched as high as the eyes could reach. The unknown jerk of pain mulled his brain, disrupting his concentration enough to turn his golden eyes a sharp blue color and his bone-white hair into its original jet black.

Near him, sitting with a dozen books stacked to the left, was a man with wide eyes. "Something wrong, Kou—?"

The wave of power struck through him and the book in his hands tumbled off his lap. He reached to his temples, pressing against them hard with his fingertips, hoping it would ease the pain. He forced past it.

"What is happening?" he bellowed. "What is happening with _her_?"

The startling voice bounced off the walls, shouting back in echo until it vanished in the height. Kouyou turned his attentions to the male, flecks of gold beginning to stretch along the irises of his eyes.

"Dying, Ageha, she is dying." His jaw quivered as he struggled past every word.

"And Enishi! He is there! Has he—" He grit his teeth. "He is—"

"Useless," strained Kouyou. "She will perish permanently."

"Gather the Star and Emperor. Gather everyone except that _demon_!" Ageha struggled onto his feet and shot Kouyou a scrutinizing look, furious that the older male had not bothered moving. "NOW! Gather them NOW!"

Kouyou's form disappeared in smoke.

.

.

The forest ran deeper into what others learned to call Hell. Foolish teenagers on dares had often ran through its frondescent expanse, but never returned. Not one person that had entered the void could ever will themselves to return to the World of the Living. Even if the bravest, most courageous human in the face of the planet entered, they would not return. It was fact. The rumors were proven countless times; no one had ever walked out of the forest alive, their corpses were found in the surrounding area, dead, completely healthy, but dead.

Since it became a dangerous site, the city that bordered it had become vacant and has remained an undisturbed ghost town for over two hundred years. Certain restrictions had been applied to the sylvan, although they were often neglected by many.

The world had its eccentricities—things one can attempt at explanation, but fail because these legends stood beside old folklore and were meant to live for thousands of generations to come. The legend of the forest being the gateway to Hell had been popularized in recent years, though nonbelievers seldom stayed away, subjecting innocents to the trials hidden behind the robust canopy of trees to greet death.

It was because the silly legends existed that the Star Arcana delved deep into the forest to find it populated by vicious Hollow and a tiny orb of light in the dead center, something they protected. He easily eradicated them, smiling unabashedly at the bloodshed that colored the surrounding area crimson and deemed this area a worthy home. Nobody would ever dare seek him out, nobody would know, and so, he wouldn't be bothered.

His theory stood for little time. Another found him, the Emperor Arcana, apparently. He nearly laughed himself stupid at the sight. _A familiar face,_ he had thought, _not bad._

The Emperor needed information, the Star could provide it and somehow a truce had been formed.

Together they found themselves experiencing dreadful headaches and a sudden awareness for the other nine Arcana. Most of which were gather in Karakura Town, two in an unfamiliar area, and two others in Kyoto where everything seemed to be centered.

"The fuck's going on?" shouted Emperor, clawing at his head.

"Dunno," said Star, standing by aloofly. "Someone mighta died."

The old man appeared, The Hierophant. He was familiar with him. Watanabe Kouyou pointed the forest area to him shortly after awakening. He looked agitated and unkempt. It seemed whatever affected them was running through the rest of the Arcana, but it was a mere assumption.

"We are gathering to the source of power," said the Hierophant.

"Fuck no!" snapped Emperor.

"Didn't ya say ya wouldn't expose us?" asked Star.

"Yes, I did, but you see—" He paused to subdue the reaction to a harsh wave of pain. "—you have no option. It is a direct order from the Hermit, neither you nor I, can disobey him. You may resist, if you must, but you will be forced onto the scene before I finish this conversation."

As he said, out of his volition, both disappeared from the dark stretch of shade to a city exploding with lights. Star drank in the sights, admittedly, he never had had the urge to visit an overpopulated city before in his life and it might be a once in a lifetime experience, so he decided to enjoy it.

The Emperor on the other hand, furious by his involuntary movement, kicked the Hierophant harshly. "What the fuck's going on?"

Kouyou followed shortly. "To be governed by a Queen, even in death, is quite _irritating_, is it not?"

* * *

Ichigo followed closely by Touma and Tatsuki turned the nearest corner. The second Nagata hurried through the crowd with Haruka, he bounded after, ignoring everything else around him. He only remembered Nagata didn't have enough power to revive her if she fell ill again and the idea hung over his head like a blaring sign, telling him that there was no way for Haruka to survive this. Even though she spent every moment after she woke up to herself, sneaking out of the room only for baths and returning silently before anyone realized she was gone, he remember that she had been happy, so happy that even he had felt it, and that he promised to take her back to the natatorium whenever she wanted. He intended to do it. He wanted to take her there.

The corridor was empty, wisps of darkness dissolved below their feet.

Touma clung to the wall. "She's dying."

"What?" snapped Ichigo.

He knew that, he just wanted someone to tell him otherwise.

"You feel it too, don't you?"

Tatsuki looked ashamed, completely out of place, but nodded.

"Why can you feel it?" asked Ichigo desperately. "Why can all of you feel it and—?"

"We don't have time to explain, she has a thirty minute clock hanging over her head, when that hits zero, I don't know what'll happen!" yelled Touma, and reached to grab both teenagers by the wrist. "Nagata took her to a hospital outside Kyoto, come on!"

Ichigo heard his ears pop and blinked. He had seen the corridor of the ryokan a millisecond ago, and another moment after, he stood in the middle of an empty crosswalk with Tatsuki taking in her surroundings, mouth agape, and Touma running across toward a tall building of lights. He grabbed Tatsuki unconsciously. "Let's go."

They hastily pursued Touma, whose movements had turned forced and sluggish, but all managed to enter the hospital building. Ichigo reached the desk inside the emergency entrance and quickly asked about Nagata and Haruka, sure to describe them particularly well to the quizzical girl.

"…blond hair and a grim face," he said quickly. "She's very thin with brown hair that looks yellow in the light and—"

Tatsuki and Touma were in seats, suppressing the urge to allow the pain to register in their expressions.

"Oh! She was taken in already, her boyfriend went—"

"He's not her boyfriend," corrected Ichigo.

Through the pain, Touma managed to snigger, only to be elbowed by Tatsuki and glared at by Ichigo.

"Sorry," said the girl, taken aback. "I don't have any information regarding her yet, so, unless you're family, you can't—"

Touma jumped out of his seat, waved a hand. "Brothers—" looked down, "—and sister. We're all she's got, you've gotta let us in."

There was a look of sincerity plastered on his face; the anxiety shone and somehow dug its claws into the receptionist's heart as she stared from one face to the other. "Fine," she conceded. "Fine, go in."

The automatic door opened with a push of a button behind her counter and thankful, they all rushed past it.

"I haven't told you where to go yet!" she shouted, earning a _shush _from a nurse inside her tiny office.

"It's fine, I can find her!" called Touma, leading them down bright white corridors and bustling nurses.

It smelled strongly of medicine, illness, death, and lime. The corridors were pale, spotless, and seemed to go on forever before a new door appeared to take them deeper into the structure. Touma hurried past waiting areas and lobbies, stopped only once between different hallways to get his direction, but went on.

Ichigo spotted Nagata on the ground holding his blond head in his hands, looking murderous. The room before them locked shut, though muffled voices were heard.

"En, what is it?" called Touma, appearing before him.

The usage of his ancient name didn't faze him as he lifted his eyes to his brother. "Dying," he said bitterly. "Not taking her medication as needed, exhausting herself in a fucking pool—it's like she wants to fucking die."

"You can help her," said Ichigo.

He knew the answered long before Nagata turned the frightening glare on him.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to," he said crisply.

"Why?"

Touma stared at his hands oddly, clenching and unclenching them, eyes widening. "…We're becoming human."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Tatsuki, confused.

Nagata opened his mouth, "Haruka's—"

Kazumasa materialized in a wave of darkness, followed closely by an unfamiliar male with long white hair and brightly golden eyes. Tall and sickly thin, he stood dressed in a fancy men's kimono.

"Ageha?"

Touma, Nagata, and Kazumasa spoke at once, upon laying eyes on the new man.

"The time has been split in half, we only have fourteen minutes remaining," said Ageha calmly. "Without the Fool, we are unable to bring her back."

"Why are you here?" asked Touma, amazed. "You never leave the cave!"

Ageha frowned disapprovingly.

Ichigo felt a chill strum down his spine, but it wasn't the rigidness of the atmosphere that had caused it, it was the arrival of more Arcana. They appeared out of thin air, filling the corridor with streams of black smoke.

"Ichigo! Tatsuki!"

Ichigo and Tatsuki snapped back, eyes widening at the sight of Keigo.

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Ichigo.

"Where have you two been? You've been gone for a while," called Keigo simultaneously.

"Hiya Kurosaki!" another familiar voice chimed in.

"Kurosaki?" and yet another, confused and furious all the same.

Ichigo put faces to the voices immediately and searched the crowd of unfamiliar faces for the ones he expected, but found nobody until the first person said, "Down 'ere," and he looked, stumbling backward.

"What the fuck's going on?"

.

.

_"Quite difficult, is it not?"_

Haruka was certain her soul had abandoned her physical body and stopped in the middle of a colorful checkered floor. A spotlight surrounded her, illuminating the imperfections of an emaciated body and the baggy clothes barely hanging off it.

"It is."

"_Then, why have you manifested yourself?_"

The bodiless voice surrounded her in warmth, though it was strong and curious in manner.

"Because you want to end it, on your terms, not _his._"

_"End it? The cycle, you mean."_

"You feel guilty," said Haruka, starting towards the silence.

Silence.

"You feel empty."

…

"It has to be over."

_"How did you manifest yourself?"_

"You wanted to live. Live and experience the things that were taken from you for being who and what you are, but you realize you can't do it. You are conflicted."

The checkered floor's color had faded into whites and grays and then a pitch black. Haruka hesitated upon reaching the end of what she considered the road, but gulped down the lump in her throat and stepped forward. The surface rippled with every step.

_"Who and what are you?"_

Haruka continued in silence. She reached the bodiless voice shortly. Sitting atop a white throne in the center of a body of water she was dressed all in white, bone colored hair matched with the alabaster skin covered in silvery markings that curved and twisted, resembling thin vines with strategically placed leaves in the arcs.

"You don't recognize me?"

The golden eyes narrowed in scrutiny. _"No_."

"Do you know why?"

_"I also do not know the answer to that question."_

"Because you hate me."

_"I do?"_

"We are the same person."

Astonishment creased her features. _"The same? I have never—"_

"Then why are you killing me too?"

.

.

Bleary eyes opened to mere slits. A breathing mask was strapped to her face, the sides cutting into her flesh, as oxygen filled her nostrils. The sound of the EKG was muted by the crowd of voices, but she was certain the monitor displayed a decreasing heart rate that no amount of medication could help. Nothing, nobody, could help her now.

_"Why are you trying to die?"_

Haruka blinked slowly, vision obscuring.

_He shouldn't be here. I can't let him win._

* * *

Ichigo stumbled back, eyes wide, looking from one miniature version of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez and of Ichimaru Gin standing in front of Kouyou, neither looked much older than four or five. "What is this?"

"Dunno," replied Ichimaru childishly. "Been like this since Aizen done me in."

Grimmjow barked out a laugh. "Serves you right, damn weasel!"

"Least it wasn't Nnoitra."

Furious, Grimmjow lunged at Ichimaru, only to have Kouyou's hand in his face pushing him off and the fox-faced boy scurrying behind Ichigo with a laugh. Grimmjow bit Kouyou's hand, forcing him to jerk away.

The child version of Ichimaru was picked up by the scruff of his neck by Ageha; he turned to face the man curiously.

"I asked you to stay away from each other," said Ageha, disappointed.

"Where is Arashi?" called Yuka, aloud.

"The little bastard wasn't invited, get the hint!" snapped Touma.

"Ah, Faye, I didn't see you there," said Kazumasa cheerfully, turning around.

Faye glared murderously at her husband. "Oh you didn't?"

Miho perused the sparkling ground desperately. "Has anyone seen my phone?"

"Why are you here?" demanded Tatsuki, standing in front of Keigo.

"Well, it's a long story," said Keigo slowly.

"I haven't done nuthin'," complained Ichimaru.

"You owe me an apology, boy," said Kouyou calmly to Grimmjow.

"Fuck you!"

Ichigo listened to everyone's voices overlapping, looked from one person to the next and finally to Nagata, who sat in the same position without speaking a single word. The boisterous ambience should have at least provoked him to silence everyone. He felt it inappropriate. Haruka was in the adjacent room, barely alive, and everyone else was reacquainting themselves, acting as if everything was okay, like they had a right to ignore her death when they appeared here for that specific reason.

"Shut up!"

The words echoed in the hall in his voice.

Silence fell.

Everyone with the exception of Death looked to him, astonished.

"Wakatsuki is dying in there and you're all—"

"Who cares!" interjected Yuka noisily. "She's a complete nobody!"

Touma took a daunting step forward, hand fisted, prepared to lung himself at her. "She's worth a lot more than you are, sneaky bitch!"

"Who do you think you are?"

"The asshole kicking your ass!"

"Touma," started Ageha. "Nagisa wouldn't—"

"I don't care what she would or wouldn't," snapped Touma. "She's taken a lot of liberties with me to keep doing it in death!"

Ichigo stood in the center, mortified. He had not predicted he would be the reason an argument started and once more looked to Nagata, sitting there, saying nothing, not even moving.

"Your safety was her priority, you should be thankful," Ageha went on.

"I could have ended this goddamned war singlehanded—"

"HA!" Yuka barked out a laugh. "You? Finish the war? Are you stupid?"

"That's it!" He started towards her.

Nagata's arm shot toward him, grabbing him by the leg and jerking him backward. Touma hit the floor face first. The quiet deafened as Death rose to his feet, his eyes were speckled gold and his hair carried wisps of bone-white strands.

"What was that for?" cried Touma, raising his head to reveal blood dripping from his nose.

Nagata's eyes were fixed on the pixie-haired girl. "You can stabilize her, can't you, Priestess?"

Yuka nodded snottily. "So?"

"Do it."

"I'd rather not."

"Ageha, order her."

Ageha blinked, direction his attention to the girl as well. "You do understand that if I give you the order, whether you wish or not, you will do what is asked of you?"

"I don't believe you," she said bluntly. "Only Nagisa can do that."

"Just give her the goddamned order," snapped Nagata.

"Stabilize Wakatsuki Haruka," said Ageha with authority.

Yuka stiffened. "Even if I do, she won't be cured forever."

"If you want to keep those powers of yours, you better heal her forever, arrogant bitch," Nagata stated dangerously.

She called his bluff with a shrill laugh, though her body had started moving forward to the room where the doctors were doing everything in their power to keep Haruka alive. "Only Nagisa can strip us of our powers."

"Yeah," said Death quietly. "Only Nagisa. So, you better get in there and heal her."

"Wait—what?" sputtered Ichigo. "Haruka is—"

"—Nagisa," finished Death.

* * *

_**Thanks to**: reality deviant and ruler of dragons for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

...heh heh.

The logic that went into the Star and Emperor Arcana's awakening is quite different than the rest. It will be explained later. The Arcana is pretty broken now, but there will be a chance to some unity later.

This chapter is shorter than what I am used to, but it was necessary. The following are shorter, so they will be posted faster. Chapter 15 will be up on Saturday.

Admittedly, the story underwent a lot of changes over my absence. The outline was severely changed and I hope all the changes work out for the better.


	16. Death and His Friends Pt 3

**Chapter Fifteen**,"Death and His Friends" – Part Three

watergrave

"Let her die then! She owes it to us!" shouted Faye, stomping forward loudly, when Kazumasa intercepted her path. "She's only going to manipulate us all over again!"

"Are you stupid?" yelled Touma, staggering onto his feet. "I'm the one that tried using you! She's the one that stopped me!"

"So you admit it, you goddamned leech?"

"Faye, please…" eased Kazumasa.

Ichimaru whistled. "Drama's much better 'ere, eh, Grimmjow?"

"Shut up."

Keigo and Tatsuki looked baffled, apparently the only ones unaware of the gravity of the situation, and Ichigo wasn't sure what to do. The room could have been spinning out of control and he wouldn't have noticed. His focus was elsewhere and he was unsure of what emotions to feel.

"What happens to Haruka then?" he asked finally, over Touma and Faye's shouting.

Nagata looked to him. "We lose our powers and Soul Society gets to kills us without a heavy conscious or any casualties."

"And everything Nagisa has worked for will be meaningless," started Ageha. "We have already started losing power since the death of our Magician, becoming human more and more human with time."

Ichigo noticed that. Ageha and Kouyou's hair returned to darker shades along with the color of their eyes, even the wisps of hair and specks of gold had faded from Nagata's characteristics.

"I'm going already. Someone needs to set up a barrier," snapped Yuka. "We're all gonna go in to subdue Nagisa."

"The job is for The Lovers, come now," Ageha said in a commanding voice, "put up the strongest barriers you can somewhere in a building far from here. Enishi will take Nagisa. I will bring whoever wishes to come with what little power I have remaining."

The order was intact and in a blink of an eye, both halves of The Lovers Arcana vanished. Yuka entered the room, the doctors running around were visible to them so long as the doors remained open and Ichigo could see Haruka's body connected to an EKG, the monitor's beeping slower and slower every second.

The quieted beeps coincided with his heartbeat, stricken with trepidation and drowning in his own confusion, no words left his mouth as he listened to the buzz of doctors shouting at the small girl stepping closer to the body lying in bed. Nagata went in when a female intern attempted to call security. Touma grabbed hold of both Tatsuki and Keigo and they disappeared. Everyone at his surroundings was doing the same, even Ichimaru and Grimmjow, who were forcibly teleported elsewhere by Kouyou.

"We've never met."

Ichigo blinked, Ageha stood right in front of him with a bright smile. "That's fine."

"Oh?" he said, taken aback. "Well, I am called Ageha, I hold Nagisa's crown until her awakening."

Hearing both "Nagisa" and "awakening" in the same sentence made Ichigo realize that it was happening, that Haruka was indeed Nagisa, who everyone either feared or respected and whose death shattered the Arcana Cycle. He understood the idea made everything infinitely harder. He swore to protect Haruka from all harm, harm he suspected stemmed from the Arcana especially after Nagata stated that they would eventually be fighting—the Arcana would become enemies of Soul Society. That's why Nagata snapped whenever Ichigo suggested he would take Haruka with him. Taking her there would mean her death.

"How can you be sure?" Ichigo asked suddenly. "That she's Nagisa."

"Hurry the fuck up!" yelled Nagata, hoisting Haruka into his arms. He disappeared and Yuka followed.

"I suppose it is time for us to catch up to the others. Come now."

Ageha touched Ichigo's shoulder and he felt darkness surround him.

The mixture of dust and withering flowers filled his nostrils, followed by Nagata's booming voice bouncing off the glass walls. "If you don't want to be here, get the fuck out! Everyone except you, Yuka!"

Many left the greenhouse structure, leaving Yuka, Nagata, Touma, Kazumasa, Ageha, and his friends sticking close to each other in a crowd of strangers. He approached them silently, watching the leftover Arcana surround Haruka's body.

Yuka thrust her hand towards Death, earning a furtive look. "You think I can keep her stable without your power?"

Grudgingly, Nagata grabbed her hand. "Don't wet yourself."

She snorted with disgust. "You wish."

Touma found his way beside Ageha, looking quite interested. "Why'd you leave?"

"The best answer is Nagisa ordered me to do it," answered Ageha calmly.

Touma looked unconvinced as he paced around the greenhouse with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"What's going on?" wailed Keigo, attempting to cling to Ichigo when Tatsuki glared viciously at him. "Why're we still here?"

"Why are _you _here?" demanded Tatsuki.

Ichigo was thankful she had asked him again. He was also curious to know.

"Well, you see…"

Keigo recounted his experience in one breath, bordering hysterics as he detailed his encounter with faceless monsters trying to murder him, which was something Tatsuki could relate to, and finished to allow air into his lungs. Keigo turned out to be one of them, the Hanged Man, just as Tatsuki would eventually become the Chariot. He only had a basic understanding, but experienced the same darkening cloud as the rest of the Arcana, a pain that far surpassed the others.

"Who is she supposed to be?" asked Tatsuki.

"Wakatsuki-san goes on about her a lot, says he wants to take the crown away from her," said Keigo innocently.

"Wakatsuki Arashi?" queried Tatsuki.

"Then he is an Arcana?" snapped Ichigo.

"Strength," replied Keigo, looking at his friends as though he expected them to know that already. "He wants to free everyone."

Ichigo's eyes were fixed on the scene before him. Nagata and Yuka sitting side to side, linked together by their hands while she kept one over Haruka's face. Kazumasa stood beyond the glass walls overlooking a powerful barrier he had placed around the area.

"Five minutes," announced Ageha.

"Five minutes for what?" asked Ichigo.

"If Nagisa isn't properly stabilized within those five minutes, she will not awaken and her host will die," Ageha explained cordially. "But if I am not mistaken, it seems our Queen is trying to die."

An ominous shudder strummed down everyone's spine and they were suddenly very alert of a new, furious presence.

"Wakatsuki-san?" called Keigo, astonished.

Ichigo turned to confirm it was, indeed, Arashi standing in front of the greenhouse entrance with a wry smile on his face, emitting powerful waves of fury. His presence did not go unnoticed by any.

Ageha remained collected, stood still with his arms folded. "Reinforce the barrier before he receives aid—"

"Aid!" barked Arashi. "I can have you all groveling in seconds."

"You wanna try that, asshole?" snapped Touma, attempting to leave Ageha's side.

Ageha grabbed him by the back of the shirt and with the slightest flick of his wrist sent him to the ground hard. "You already disobeyed Nagisa once this cycle, would you like her to seal you permanently in my dimension?"

"He's here to forcibly take the crown before she's up—"

"Stay outta this Touma." Nagata emerged from behind the two. "You stand in for me. Ageha, make sure the barrier around Yuka doesn't fall." He shot a fleeting glance at the trio farthest from the rest. "You three better get behind Ageha."

Ichigo grew furious, watching as Nagata made one swift gesture, casting a string of luminous black speckled smoke that had formed a ring of magic, and from the center, a handle appeared. Death grabbed and twisted it, tugging from the vanishing cloud a gargantuan battle-axe made of black steel. The weapon towered high above their heads, bursting through the roof of the ancient greenhouse. Shards of glasses started falling all around him and Haruka's twin, but neither moved, nor tried avoiding the painful cuts.

"She's your sister!" yelled Ichigo, feeling Keigo and Tatsuki dragging him backwards. "You're supposed to protect her!"

"That's the bullshit of NPSLE, never know when it's going to take you," answered Arashi quaintly. "I figured I'd have a bit more time before she dropped dead, specifically when I was ready to overpower her, but—" he shrugged, "life's curveball. I won't be deterred."

"If it makes you feel better, Kurosaki," started Nagata, waving his axe threateningly, "she was my sister first."

"Hah."

Death lurched forward.

.

.

The rippling surface tore open into crisp blue sea that stretched into the deepest of darkness where a figure in white attempted to drown what remained of "Haruka."

Bubbles floated away from her mouth, a cold hand clenched her throat, as bright hued eyes searched the blue waters, filled with turrets of rocks and school of colorful fish and the billowing of silk fabrics that wrapped around a faceless, emancipated body. The stretch of white, elastic skin was spotted in the darkest bruises and covered in noticeably vibrant green veins that traced along her arms and face. Hollow eyes stared back, white irises and without pupils.

Further into the abyss lay a lifetime of impatience and bleakness, a moment in which one was forced to recollect the tragedies and dregs of wartime, to understand that the cause of it all lay deep in her memory. Above the sparkling surface rested the ultimatum, if she reached it and the Cycle survives, and lives until she can truly free them.

But she was hesitant while watching a curtain of brown gold hair tangling in the salty waters, that if and when she abandoned the host, it meant leaving much more. A body that desired swimming, but could never dive into a cold pool without falling into spasms, a child whose only talent lay in her hands—drawing and painting pictures that were worthy of recognition. Living in a realm of fantasy and reality, allowing a dead mother to slip in and out of her life because it had never been fair to have lost her at such a young age. Condemned to live with a father, who wasn't really real, that never learned to love, but had so much time to do so.

To meet a person as strong as Nagata Taishi, to smile because of Kurosaki Ichigo, and though annoying, Touma, too—everything built in sixteen years of suffering were drowning along with her.

Her eyes stung, turned bright red.

_"I'll carry the weight, just don't let me die."_

Water filled her lungs.

.

.

Death's axe fell over Arashi's head effortlessly; the impact caused seismic waves to travel towards the other side of the greenhouse. Arashi barely managed to escape, jumping high enough to avoid another powerful swing. He expected one of his underlings relayed the message, and he bet his money it had been Kazumasa's witch of a wife, there was no one else in the Cycle with a bigger grudge against Nagisa alive, but that hardly mattered. The damage was done; Arashi was present, now he needed to keep the brat from spoiling the event.

He twisted his body around, drawing the axe from the ground and throwing it straight at Arashi. The axe shattered through the remaining half of the rooftop where Arashi once stood and flung straight into the star dotted sky. It split through darkness like cutting hurricane winds. Accusatory shouting rang in his ears like a sentence, but a furtive glance in the direction of the rest of the Arcana assured him that everyone within Kazumasa's barriers was protected.

"You have got to try harder than that!" shouted Arashi, standing upside down midair.

"Why don't you stop flying around like a fairy and fight me like a man?" barked Nagata.

"You are so crass!"

"Stop whining like a little bitch!"

"Would you just kick his ass?" shouted Tatsuki in the background.

"Fuck off!" snapped Death. "It's called buying time!"

"I'm hurt Arisawa-senpai!" Arashi put both hands over his chest, looking offended. "I've known you longer!"

"Heads up!"

Strength threw himself forward just in time as Death's gigantic axe sliced straight through the air above him. Nagata lunged upward, catching his weapon effortlessly and feinted another swing. Arashi ducked quickly, set on staying a step ahead when he felt something hit hard against his stomach.

"Your reflexes suck," laughed Nagata, having kneed him. "You sure you're the right Arcana?"

Arashi flew backward with the force of the attack, tumbling on air until he managed to catch himself, but met with Nagata's fist. The bones of his ribcage snapped and blood spluttered out of his mouth. He recoiled, fisted his hands and twisted around just as Nagata attempted to smash the hilt of his axe to his face.

The energy between them distorted—familiar and ancient—and cast a fuzzy ambience all around them. He encountered this once before.

_Where…?_

A devilish smile appeared on Arashi's face as he unclenched his hands and one reached to grab hold of the axe. "You're right, I'm not."

"Shit!"

Realization stalled, by the time he remembered Arashi's hand had clamped around the handle of his axe and the ending result was the burst of black and white flecks. The weight of his weapon disappeared along with it and his fury exploded.

"Whoops," chimed Arashi.

Nagata grabbed him harshly by the shoulders, swung back, and crushed his head against his skull. "You son of a bitch!"

Arashi hit the ground hard, coughing and laughing hysterically as he teetered back onto his feet. Nagata was only a short distance from reaching him when he bounded past a cluster of black smoke. He toppled over, falling over broken glass.

He felt the shards digging into his flesh and took a gulping breath, arms shaking in anger. He remembered the others and turned back to see Kazumasa's barriers crumble slowly. Yuka jumped to her feet, disgusted to find Touma sitting next to her, unaware his repugnance far surpassed her own. Ichigo had disappeared behind his friends, crouching down next to Haruka's body, the uneasiness painted on his face. Keigo looked just about to celebrate until Tatsuki smacked him upside the head.

And then, somebody said it.

"Ageha…?"

Ageha stood with ordinary brown hair and dark green eyes, looking to Death nonchalantly, and turned to whoever addressed him.

"…Why are you still here?"

"Why…? I wanted to—" It hit him like a ton of bricks. His face blanched and said nothing more.

"That can't be it," said Kazumasa suddenly. "Haruka's awakening makes twelve."

Nagata struggled onto his feet and staggered towards the group, tugging shards of glass from his palms. "Nagisa makes thirteen," he confirmed, digging his fingernails into the open flesh to pull a small piece from the wound.

"Who're we missing?" asked Touma.

"Judgment," he deadpanned.

Touma snorted. "Judgment?"

Ageha quietly cleared his path and found a corner to continue to sulk in, knowing his powers were temporarily sealed and he was forever cursed to remain in the World of the Living.

Yuka was jumping up and down in the background, eyes screwed shut. "Why can't I get home?"

"If there are thirteen of us, our powers are annulled," said Kazumasa easily. "We are also easier to track. We should probably leave here as soon as possible. We can settle in one of my apartments here."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" complained Yuka.

"We don't have powers, basically."

Haruka stirred, coughing.

"Haruka!"

"Nagisa!"

Ichigo and Touma's voices overlapped. Nagata felt his heart hammering away in his chest as he found a vacant spot among the crowd surrounding Haruka's body. Tatsuki glanced in his direction, looking at the blood pulsing out of his palms.

"You'll be okay?" she asked, curious.

He stared awkwardly. "Uh, yeah…peachy."

Haruka opened her eyes to mere slits, looking from one face to the next deliriously. "Touma…" The red head brightened, like an excited puppy wagging his tail, "…go away."

Touma joined Ageha in his corner.

"…Are you…?" Ichigo started, uneasy.

"I'm okay, Kurosaki."

His name leaving her mouth acted as reassurance. He expected her not to remember everything that happened, but she did.

She spotted Nagata next. "You look terrible."

"You better have some genius plan to fix this mess," he said threateningly.

Haruka looked to Ichigo. "What is he talking about?"

The orange-haired brat shrugged, truly oblivious.

"You know damn well who I'm talking about!" stated Nagata. "Does Judgment ring a bell?"

"…No."

The fury bubbled, doubling his headache. "Are you shitting me? Aren't you supposed to know everything? The World? Or did you decide to go stupid this Cycle?"

Haruka's face continued to express her confusion. "The World?"

"Yes, you, Nagisa."

"Isn't she supposed to be dead…or something?"

Everyone gaped.

Did he make a mistake? _I couldn't have, all the proof was there! Nagisa's the only one capable of using everyone else's abilities!_

"…Just kidding," she said gesturing a wide smile with both index fingers. "Did you see his face, Kurosaki? Kurosaki?"

Ichigo stared at her blankly, unable to process thought.

"It seems Nagisa wishes to continue playing the clown," started Ageha, suddenly dignified. "Where is that building of yours located Tsukamoto-san?"

Together, Ichigo and Haruka watched the members of the Arcana vacate the premises. He looked at her, perplexed.

"I can just _order_ them back, they can't—"

"You'd only be giving me more of a reason to punch you!" shouted Death, waving a threatening fist. "Just try it!"

"Punch yourself!"

And he did.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, the silence merely paved way for a killer tension.

"Oops," she muttered quietly, but not at all sorry.

"That's it! I'm kicking your ass!"

* * *

_**Thanks to**: reality deviant, ruler of dragons, and__ Ghost2113 for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

Read the announcement in my profile. Thank you for reading. Sorry about any confusion.

New chapter up on Monday (3/26).


	17. Death and His Friends Pt 4

**Chapter Sixteen**,"Death and His Friends" – Part Four

The Melancholy Shift

Kazumasa presented them with two neighboring apartments in a building he owned. It took a ten-minute subway train and a five-minute trek. Shimana Yuka, The Priestess, refused to get on the subway with the rest of them and headed home after Haruka kindly asked her not to speak a word of what happened that night to anyone, a cleverly disguised order. Even without Yuka, housing eight people in connecting apartments still sounded crowded.

It was for a 2LDK and eight people. Naturally, he, Keigo, and Tatsuki stuck together. Touma followed Nagata like a lost puppy until he slammed the bathroom door in his face and Ageha locked himself away in a closet without anyone taking notice. Kazumasa settled for making lunch while Haruka pretended to swim over a fur carpet.

"Does she always…?" Tatsuki started tentatively, watching through the connecting door to the next-door apartment.

"No," replied Ichigo instantly. "Never."

"Why can't we just go home? Mizuho is going to kill me!" complained Keigo.

Ichigo shrugged, finding it particularly annoying that he kept looking back to Haruka, who turned to rolling over the plush carpet, enjoying the soft texture she claimed felt like water. _What the hell's wrong with her?_ He wanted to say it aloud, get it off his chest, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Unless you want to be an easy target for shinigami, I suggest you stay here." Nagata appeared at the doorway, drying his hair. "We'll eventually find a way to get you all home; I'm tired of you brats." He eyed Ichigo. "You especially."

Touma reentered the neighboring apartment through the door connecting both living rooms. "What about rooms? Kazumasa's almost done with dinner, and says everyone should head to bed after."

"We have three rooms, not including Ageha's," started Nagata, seating himself in an armchair. "Arisawa and Nagisa can—"

"I want Kurosaki," came Haruka's interjection. She appeared at the doorway behind Touma, coming up behind Ichigo's seat in the couch.

Stopping the heat from crawling up his neck proved an impossible feat for Ichigo.

"If you don't stay with Arisawa, I'll make you room with Touma and I."

"Why don't you, Arisawa-san, and Touma room with me and Ichigo?" asked Haruka thoughtfully, lying on her back. "We can take the big room."

"We can't have five people to a room, stupid," argued Death.

"Okay, you can leave and room with Kazumasa. That leaves Asano-san with a room for himself."

"Don't just decide things on your own!" stated Touma. "You're not rooming with Kurosaki!"

"Kurosaki and I shared a futon in grandma's inn and you—"

"We didn't!" shouted Ichigo, face red, but the glares were as deadly as if the statement were true.

"—didn't care, but suddenly I'm your sister and you want to monopolize my living preferences," she finished. "Dad is still paying—"

"Don't just call him _dad_! He's trying to kill you!" interrupted Nagata.

"—him good money to be my babysitter, so he has to stick with me at all times."

Ichigo, thoroughly embarrassed, found it amazing Haruka managed to finish speaking, undeterred by their interruptions.

"Even if you grovel at my feet, you are not sleeping in the same bed as Kurosaki!" Nagata finished dangerously.

"Who do you take him for?" she stated, seating herself. "He's a gentleman; he'd sleep on the floor."

"I don't care," snapped Nagata. "It's not going to happen, even if you _order _it, I'll drag him out of the room if it's the last thing I do."

"I'll help!" chirped Touma.

"Don't hound him because you have a sister complex!"

The look on Nagata's face was of pure terror.

"Dinner is—" Kazumasa entered the warzone, lolled at the doorway, and quietly retreated into the peacefully silent apartment.

While everyone else found it was an occasion worthy of slowly leaving the area, Haruka just laughed.

_Laughed._

She laughed at Death.

Like it was nothing.

And he took it.

Of course, revenge came at a tortoise's pace.

.

.

That night, Haruka slept in the same bed next to Touma. Nagata chose Ichigo as his roommate, as if he expected him to run off and sneak into the next room. Keigo and Kazumasa settled in Ageha's room, leaving Tatsuki with her own bedroom.

Touma cried the entire night—happiness, disappointment, whatever it had been, she hardly cared.

"Grow up, _honestly_."

It was safe to admit that no one in the house managed to get a good night's rest.

* * *

The process of rebirth meant discarding the illness that molded "Wakatsuki Haruka" into what she was. Unable to bask in the sunlight due to hypersensitivity forced her indoors where the drapes were almost always drawn and a weak body left her with little choice in the sort of hobbies she might want to enjoy. Waking up the following morning, fully aware of her existence in a world she had grown to hate, she was perfectly healthy, at last. There was no weight on her shoulders causing fatigue, she wouldn't experience any more remissions, and running from apartment to apartment barely tired her.

Her mood brightened. She wanted to annoy Enishi and Touma all day long and watch horror movies through the night.

Life was something worth living. She thought she would never feel that way again in centuries she lived with the Arcana background.

Haruka shut the lights off and settled into a comfortable seat on the couch, popping popcorn into her mouth enjoying her first of three zombie movie sequels. Mornings and afternoons were spent playing board games and dual players games on the Wii, video games to which she had the upper hand, and ate Touma's overzealous portions of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Everyone went to bed at their own time, eventually leaving her in the living room unattended.

"Mind if I sit?"

Haruka nodded, recognizing Ichigo's voice and heard his footsteps round the couch. He plopped down near her. She became very aware quickly, the awkwardness spread between them. They hadn't had an actual conversation since they arrived here, only the occasional greetings.

"So, what am I supposed to call you now? Haruka or Nagisa?" he asked clumsily.

"Haruka is fine." She glanced down at the bucket of popcorn and thrust it in his direction. "Want some?"

"No," he said quickly. "I just brushed my teeth."

Haruka reached in and grabbed a handful. He watched her stuff it into her mouth and turn her attention to the bloody massacre of a man after his bullets ran out. The zombies swarmed him and started ripping at his flesh; the scene brought a bitter taste to his mouth. She didn't even bat an eyelash.

"I'm not any different, you know?" she said after swallowing the popcorn. "I still hate art and want to become a professional swimmer, but now—"

"—you're going to destroy Soul Society and everyone in it," he finished bitterly.

She turned away, ashamed. "I understand—"

"Do you?" he snapped unconsciously. "Those are my friends you'll be killing!"

She shrunk. "You don't know what we went through. You didn't experience it, you weren't there."

"Couldn't you just let it go? Instead of coming back all these years, marking whomever you please and turning them into more of you! Couldn't you have just dropped the revenge and be peaceful with Soul Society like you're supposed to?"

"When I offered Soul Society peace, they spat in my face. Killed them, even though many of them did nothing to them," she said harshly. "Can you guarantee they won't kill us now if we offer peace?"

He stared at her, taken aback, unable to assure her anyone would believe them. He wasn't stupid.

"I am not asking you to stay here," she said quietly. "I won't. You are at will to choose your side."

"I won't."

Haruka sank in her seat, torn between emotions, and watched the rest of her film in complete silence.

When Ichigo stood, she grabbed his wrist. He fought the urge to avoid meeting her eyes, but did in the end.

"I'll return your powers to you," she said quickly," and when I do, you go back."

His hand clenched. "Fine," he said as his expression softened. "But what about my friends?"

"I am not obligating them to stay. They will choose their sides as well," she answered, loosening her clasp on his wrist. "But do not hate them if you feel they've chosen incorrectly, they are not to blame for what awaits them."

Ichigo's eyes lingered on her fingers brushing his skin as her hand retreated to her lap. His gaze flickered to her, he faltered, and removed himself from the room, leaving her alone.

* * *

_**Thanks** **to**: ruler of dragons and __Ghost2113 for reviewing the previous chapter._

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Firefox is being a complete douchebag, so I resorted to using Google Chrome. It's 4am, I banged my wrist on the wall and couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to upload this, though it should have been up at midnight, but the injuries have made me lazy. I am thankful I had someone write this up for me beforehand.

Thank you for reading.

I feel horrible for not getting the chance to reply to reviews, but I will...this time around. This chapter marks the end of the first arc in "Thirteen" and the second one, of course, starts in ch 17. I hope you enjoy how Ichigo gets tortured into reacquiring his powers. Also, the original plan to was to have Ichigo and Haruka dating when she came to as Nagisa, but somewhere along the way as I outlined and wrote my "Arcana" one-shots and memories, I sorta had the urge of making Ichigo develop strong feelings towards his obvious enemy. He knows it, but it happens anyway. Haruka-Nagisa grew on me. She's the worst best person in the world.

The turn out should be interesting.

...shortest chapter ever. If it makes you feel better the following chapter is 3k words and counting, and if things go as planned, you will see it on Saturday. :)

By then, I will have an art post in my journal solely dedicated to the fanart **ruler of dragons **has gifted me, most recently more Death. I really just like looking at him...

The preview to ch 17 is up in riotpunkdance livejournal, find it through my Status Update post. It's short, as always.


	18. A Devil's Strength

**Chapter Seventeen**,"A Devil's Strength"

"When did you know?"

Haruka woke and slept with the question looming over her head as Touma and Nagata persistently questioned her understanding of the most important detail of their arcane existence. Knowing at their earliest convenience that they were chosen, _different_ from the rest of humanity, whether vastly intelligent, stronger, or versatile—fact was fact. The Arcana always knew, not by a simple-minded assumption and never with the mentality of "I am different because I will one day do great things and horrific past experiences won't stop me from metamorphosing into a butterfly." They were realist and the knowledge was factual. They were _different_, the elusive blue rose in an arrangement of red.

"I didn't."

The unsettling response she repeated when bombarded received plenty of criticism. Her lack of nefarious plotting summoned a dark cloud over her brothers' heads, irritated Nagata to the point of shouting at her across the dinner table in front of everyone. Ichigo stood up for her almost unconsciously, asked Nagata to stop badgering her. For his involvement, Ichigo was asked to travel down a colorful path and up a colorful world in a single sentence, without the "colorful" censorship, of course. Everyone at the table was deathly silent, afraid of what verbal abuse Nagata had in store for whoever else decided to speak up.

The scene as it unfolded before her eyes was funny, so she laughed.

It cost them dinner, but nobody was as mortified or saddened by the fact than Keigo. His emotional receptors were truly commendable, she admired them—easy to laugh, easy to embellish, easy to sadden. Since the start of the Arcana, she realized she could not be driven by her fluctuating emotions, and thus, gave The Lovers free reign over emotions. With a word, she had them recalibrate high emotions, though it never worked on Enishi—nothing worked on Death, maybe at the moment, she stubbornly favored him for being older and reliable.

It had been incredibly selfish to give her brother's the best Arcana, though she practically damned Yamato to oblivion with The Judgment. Death functioned outside the Arcana, thus nothing could truly bind him to it. Devil was the strongest, though Touma's modesty (stupidity) kept him from honing the destructive attributes of his card, at least until he saw fit to pursue women all over the world and corrupt them. Enishi was synonymous with Death, much as Touma was to corruption, and Yamato, he suited The Judgment—fair, honest, and unselfish.

Haruka sighed, watching cars zoom by the crosswalk. The apartment was flanked by two intersections in a bustling prefecture where nights were flooded by lights and merriment and mornings were popularized by heaps of shoppers, most of high school age and of the female gender due to the eclectic, but fashionable boutiques lining the street.

Without the misfortune of illness, Haruka freely basked in the sunlight falling across her body by the window seat. She had enviable health with lungs that could run miles without provoking seizures due to overexertion. She thought about feeling the sunlight directly by heading outside, but since certain troubles came with her awakening and because she was the thirteenth, both combined meant trouble.

"Do you think the others are fine?"

Nagata was sprawled over the bed, watching an R-rated slasher films on Pay-Per View. He apologized for yesterday's transgression at dinner and sent Ichigo off the convenience store. Tatsuki went along, starting to feel suffocated locked in the apartment all day without phone rights. Nobody had phone rights since Haruka picked up the phone, announcing she was going to call Wakatsuki Hiko to tell him she was at her grandmother's ryokan. Nagata broke the phones, all of them without exception.

He grunted audibly. "Others?"

"Arashi."

"Just Arashi?"

"Just Arashi."

"No Faye, Yuka, Miho, or Yurie—"

"I am very disappointed in you for killing Yurie, En."

"He had it coming."

Haruka ignored his deprecating tone. "Do you think he's fine?"

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't," he grunted. "Complete bastard."

"…We should be afraid of what he's planning, you know that?" she said firmly. "He already _Erased_ your axe. I can't bring it back, and it'll take months to make you a new one."

"He only wants your throne. He feels cheated that I chose you over him."

She heard the front door open and quickly jump onto her feet, unzipped her sweater and tossed it off. Underneath she wore a too large t-shirt with the words "I CAN RUN FASTER HORNY THAN YOU CAN SCARED" and in the middle were the shadowed figures of a woman running from a man.

"I feel cheated you chose me over you," she remarked. "The entire family was cheated."

"Touma wasn't."

"I cheated him by turning him into a child."

Nagata frowned. "Whatever." He looked at her t-shirt nonplussed. "We can buy you clothes. Ichigo can. It's across the street."

She smoothed the shirt over her stomach with a smile. "I totally get why you and Touma love these. You need to buy me more, in my size."

Ichigo entered the room with an overstuffed plastic bag. "Here are your—what are you wearing?"

"En-chan's t-shirt."

"I don't like it when you stick '-chan' at the end of any variants of my previous names," started Nagata snappishly, bothered by the mounting nicknames she had given him over the past four days. "I'm older than you."

"You shouldn't let her wear those," said Ichigo, in obvious protest.

"She likes 'em," Nagata replied nonchalantly. "She does what she wants."

Haruka stole the plastic bag from Ichigo and poured everything out over the bed. There were various magazines, chocolate bars, sugary treats, canned soda and coffee, and plastic containers with donuts and cakes. She quickly reached for the sugar sticks and picked the shojo magazines from the bottom stack.

"Thanks Kuro-chan."

"I'm not a cat, Wakatsuki!" snapped Ichigo.

"Good, 'cause if you were and you were abandoned and sitting in a box on the side of the street, I wouldn't pick you up," she stated humorously as she plopped down in her seat by the window. "Dibs on the powdered donuts, by the way."

Ichigo searched Nagata's expression for some form of explanation. "Teenage hormones, drives her up the wall. If you like her—"

Face flushed red. "—I don't!"

"Aw, you like me?" chimed Haruka in an awed voice.

"No—I—" He grew colored by the word, a blaring shade of red.

"You should totally ask me on a dwate." She stuffed her mouth with candy.

"I wouldn't recommend it," advised Nagata. "On THS she's just a glutinous, obnoxious teenage _fan girl_. I suggest you wait until she finishes puberty."

Haruka swallowed the sugary treats in her mouth, finding that some of that candy managed to stick to the back of her throat. She found Ichigo struggling to get a word in. "How 'bout tonight or tomorrow morning? I need to buy clothes anyways."

"No!" he suddenly shouted, trotting out the open door. "I don't want to go on a date."

"I can just make Kazu-chan have you agree, you know?"

"No means no, Nagisa," offered Nagata, putting the volume up to hear his movie over the conversation. "Get a clue, you're not a child."

Ichigo poked his head back into the room, beet red. "Listen to your brother."

"But I don't look good in jeans, in fact, I actually look rather stupid! I hope you're okay with that!" she called after him. She made eye contact with Nagata. "Toss the donuts."

Nagata reached over and tossed the plastic container to her. She dug into that too.

"I don't have _Teenage Hormone Syndrome,_" she said quietly.

"A nun never accosts a man."

"I never said I was a nun. I was married in my previous life." She smiled proudly. "Happily. When have you been married?"

"I had a seven-year relationship," he countered. "Third Cycle."

"Eleven years, holy matrimony, _ha_!"

"Wasn't that the guy that dumped you the minute he found out you were a freak?" he asked wondrously.

"I never expected him to stay," she argued.

Nagata snorted and fell into silence.

Haruka rose from her seat to get a soda. It had gotten warm and so she headed out the door to the living room where she noticed Ichigo sitting next to Tatsuki laughing. Keigo was on the coffee table, looking bored out of his mind when he spotted her and pointed out her skittish walk down the hallway.

Heart throbbed.

Kazumasa greeted her as she walked past him, shoving the soda into his hands. Her feet unconsciously relocated her to Ageha's room where she found him withering away in the darkness, crumpled on the ground like a broken rag doll reading a book sideways. He cast a glance over his shoulder to the doorway.

"Ah, Nagisa—"

"I have THS," she said bluntly.

"THS?"

"Teenage Hormone Syndrome, like En said."

"I don't understand this."

"It's when you—" Haruka turned the lights on and noticed patches of white in Ageha's brown hair. "—Oh, look, your hair is going white again."

"The effects should be wearing off soon, of your awakening, I mean," he said calmly. "We should have some powers return to us soon."

"Great! Because I need to kill Arisawa-san to solve the haywire blitz."

Ageha looked disappointed. "Don't sound so happy…. Have you even asked her permission?"

The expression on her face changed to a serious one, as she realized her own mistake. "No, but I should. Kuro-chan needs to know too, but he'll be unhappy. He doesn't seem to like how I run the Arcana."

"…But the Chariot is necessary to his training."

"I don't think that would matter."

"I do believe she will disagree. You can do everything yourself."

"That takes longer. I just want to not do anything at all."

She slipped out of the room and heard him, just as she closed the door, say, "Actually, I think you do have THS."

She pushed the door open again. "I thought you didn't know what it meant."

"I figured it out along the way."

.

.

"With the way Wakatsuki's been badmouthing Nagisa—" Keigo paused, catching Ichigo and Tatsuki's full attention. "Well, I expected someone, you know, _scary_."

"If anything, she abuses her power," stated Ichigo, displeased with the idea. With the way Nagata and Touma glorified her, he expected a saint…not exactly the strange combination of personalities that became known as _Nagika _to the Housen brothers.

"I don't think it's as bad as you say," defended Tatsuki, sinking into her seat. "She has a good sense of humor."

"She's been hitting on you all day," said Keigo, aloud. "Just take her out for a walk, or something!"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped Ichigo, knowing Tsukamoto was standing in the kitchen wondering what to do with a soda can. He straightened out in his seat.

Tatsuki elbowed him teasingly. "What're you getting so embarrassed for?"

"I'm not embarrassed."

"With your personality, I'm surprised anyone likes you at all," she laughed.

Keigo laughed, watching Ichigo turn red again. Keigo opened his mouth to say something, but instantly quieted down when he noticed a bounce of golden brown hair coming towards them. Haruka appeared in his vision.

"Hello," she chimed.

Everyone muttered an awkward greeting as she climbed over the couch and took a seat between Ichigo and Tatsuki, directly in front of Keigo.

"Well, since I just confirmed with Ageha, it seems, we are getting out powers back," she said, addressing him directly. She smiled brightly. "Once you've regained them, you are free to stay here for training or be sent home. I'll teach—"

"—I can teach him!" said Touma quickly, entering the apartment. "I can teach you how to _Dodge._"

"Dodge?"

Everyone's voices overlapped as the three refocused their attention to Touma.

"It's a stupid name," came Nagata's voice from the bedroom door. "Unfortunately, talking her out of a stupid name is like talking her into it."

"It's radical movement—basic teleportation, in other terms, but it's not just that, it's more." Touma found a seat in an empty armchair. "These are the fundamentals to our…"

"…_condition,_" answered Nagata, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Weren't you calling it a curse?" asked Tatsuki smartly, tilting her head back to face him.

"We can't."

"Why not?" asked Keigo, confused.

"Try it," suggested Touma, grinning from ear to ear.

Haruka shook her head. "Don't try it," she said. "I wouldn't recommend it. Just keep explaining how to _Dodge_. They're going to learn it eventually."

"Keep me outta this," said Ichigo, scooting away.

"You can learn too, if you want. It's better than the shinigami and arrancar equivalent."

"No thanks," stated Ichigo.

Haruka laughed, leaning into her seat.

"_Dodging_—it's a trip," started Touma, taking the silence as cue to continue. "It's easier than it looks."

"Just remember to blink," piped Haruka.

"What if we don't wanna learn any of these things?" asked Tatsuki.

"We'll, I'd rather nobody did," she admitted carefully. "But sitting ducks aren't live ducks."

Keigo freaked. "Are you saying we'd die?"

"Yeah," she said with a giggle.

"Don't laugh!" he cried. "That's not funny at all!"

"I bet my brother didn't help you tune into the memories, huh?" When he shook his head, perplexed, she went on, "We die a lot."

"Why me?" Keigo went on, crumbling in his seat. "Why did it have to be me?"

"Why?" asked Nagata, his tone was suddenly strange and his focus alert.

Haruka stared firmly at Keigo. "You were not chosen, Asano-senpai," she admitted quietly. "Many might assume you might have gone through a selective process as usual with previous Cycles, but you were not, you were born for this."

"What does that even mean?" he freaked.

Haruka clapped her hands dismissively. "First things first, I'm handing out schedules today," she said, changing the subject skillfully. "I predict my power will return in twenty-four hours and so I want you all well rested for that span of time. Eat well. Especially you, Kuro-chan!"

She jumped to her feet effervescently.

Ichigo frowned. "Stop calling me that!"

"Touma!" Haruka called.

The redhead perked up. "Yeah?"

"Let's go buy me clothes!"

"Should you leave the house?" asked Ichigo, sitting closer to the edge.

Haruka had grabbed a sweater from a pile of fresh laundry and tugged her head through it. "Yup."

"She is stronger than everyone here," said Nagata, reaching for the remote. "You guys wanna watch a movie? I'm vying for some horror."

"Don't worry, Kurosaki, shinigami won't see us." Haruka touched the tips of Touma's fingers and slid out the doorway. "We'll be back in a few hours!"

"See you!" Touma waved as he hurried after her.

Ichigo jumped to his feet and found his jacket hung from the coat hanger. He found himself turning to Nagata. "I'm going too."

"Suit yourself."

The door slammed behind him.

Keigo and Tatsuki merely stared at Death awkwardly.

.

.

"What are you doing?"

Haruka hummed in amusement as she swirled the contents of a fruity smoothie with a long pink straw. "I am about to attempted to separate the remaining ingredients in this."

"…That's not what I meant," said Ichigo, spotting The Devil flirting with the cashier. "You say you are letting Tatsuki and Keigo go if they want, but that would do you more wrong than good. So, what are you planning?"

"I admire your perceptiveness," she said, flicking her index finger against the container. "But as of recently, I have only given freedom to Asano-san."

"And Tatsuki?" he asked forcefully. "Why keep her here?"

"I only need borrow her throughout your training."

"Borrow? She's not an object, Wakatsuki!" he snapped unconsciously.

"I can take her place, but I need to sacrifice the source of our power and without it, I won't be able to return your shinigami powers."

"Can you really return my powers?" he asked skeptically. "Nagata said it would be impossible without killing me."

"Well, yes, if you are willing to commit to the older methods," she admitted calmly, casting a glance in her brother's direction. "Although, saying my method is safer would be a horrid misconception. I will bring out the worst in you, to draw out the best. It will not be easy on your human body, nor painless, but of course, as I was often told, if there is no pain, it is not worth it."

"Is that any way to live?"

"That is how the Arcana were created," she answered, leaning forward with a dark grimace. "Strangely enough, our _creators _thought it prudent to force it upon us. They believed that if they force on us every form of pain, our bodies would strengthen until we became susceptible. This was Soul Society in its prime."

"This happened a thousand years ago, things have changed," he stated.

"I attest to it, but you cannot ask me to forgive the barbarities done to my family, my friends, and the strangers that constructed the Original Arcana," she replied snappishly. "You have absolutely no opinion if you did not experience this."

He fell into instant silence.

Haruka sucked in a breath, let it cast a spell of calmness over her erratic emotions. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, rising from her seat. "I do not wish my emotions to become a hindrance to you. I will help you without bias and we will meet, if we must, in war."

* * *

"Come brother," called Haruka from the doorway of her bedroom the following day. She addressed Death, who had been lazing comfortably in the couch while Ichigo and his entourage took a walk outside with Kazumasa and Touma watching over them.

Nagata raised his head. "For what?"

"You berated me enough about not plotting, I do think it is time enough to review my personal achievements and for me to ask something very selfish of you."

.

.

Ichigo observed the gathered Arcana from the kitchen table. Everyone had settled in around the spacious living room at Haruka's request. She included Tatsuki even though she had not awakened as a member of their group. Haruka was standing on the coffee table speaking to everyone with a white-haired Ageha sitting at her feet looking completely pleased with himself.

"…and I want to remind Touma that this isn't a love hotel," finished Haruka, looking to The Devil with a disapproving glare. "I had to sleep between my brother and Ichigo."

That he didn't remember.

"You did not!" started Ichigo, bemused.

"I did too," she affirmed, facing him inscrutably.

"I slept in the middle," reminded Nagata.

"Yeah, when you moved me."

"…Then how did you get in my room?" asked Tatsuki, confused.

"That's when he kicked me out."

"Why didn't you tell me?" snapped Ichigo, glaring.

Tatsuki looked taken aback as she twisted around to face him. "Why do you need to know where she sleeps?" she rebutted. "She can do whatever she wants."

Nagata clapped his hands and laughed aloud in appraisal.

"Ageha and Kazu-chan are leaving us after this," continued Haruka smoothly. "You see, Ageha never leaves his home and without books—"

"—Thanks for the Twilight series, guys," said Ageha sarcastically.

Nagata and Touma laughed.

"We thought you should be in on the hype," said Nagata.

"Just lay off the Tolstoy," remarked Touma.

"I learned Russian for him!"

Haruka stared at both her brothers, displeased, and the look stopped their stupid chortling. She patted the top of Ageha's head and smiled down at him.

"You don't need to stay here."

Ageha vanished.

"I don't think it was funny to buy him the Twilight series," she admitted quickly.

"Have you seen the movies?" asked Touma. "They're totally awe-inspiring."

"…I might have planned to watch them," she started awkwardly.

A strange pink shade brightened her cheeks as her eyes shifted.

Nagata sank into his seat with a proud smirk. "I'm Team Edward."

There was a twitch in Haruka's eyebrow as she knit them and the atmosphere in the room turned tense.

Then, Tatsuki exhaled. "Team Jacob?"

"Moving on—"

"She's so Team Jacob!" yelled Touma hysterically.

"Why're we talking about the Twilight series?" asked Keigo, confused. "I thought this was important."

"You hear that Kurosaki! That Jacob character is just her type!" started Nagata teasingly, laughing. "You still need a lot of work!"

Touma nearly cried as he laughed.

Ichigo suspected the words might not have bothered him at all if Haruka's face hadn't turn a hundred shades of scarlet.

"Just get on with it!" snapped Ichigo, embarrassed.

Haruka looked horrified as her brothers continued wearing out the same joke and then, Ichigo saw it, the lone tear that ran down her face as her bottom lip trembled. She jumped off the coffee table.

"I don't wanna talk anymore!" she squeaked as she sped out of sight.

The slamming door boomed like a warning.

Instinctively, Ichigo jumped to his feet and rushed into the hall after her.

Tatsuki smacked Nagata's arm and the back of Touma's head. "Assholes." She looked to Keigo. "Let's go!"

The clear banging of Haruka's bedroom door sounded. Ichigo's voice was muffled by the distance, but Nagata was certain he was trying to coax her out of the room.

Kazumasa shook his head at them after the teenagers removed themselves. "I'm leaving."

"Aren't you gonna hear the end of her speech?" asked Touma, suppressing the laughter.

"I was briefed last night," he answered.

"What? Why?" whined Touma.

"I was briefed too, this morning with Ageha," said Nagata lazily.

"Why wasn't I talked to?"

Kazumasa smiled kindly. "I think you know why."

He disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Touma searched his brother's face for answers. "She wants to send me back?"

"You're useless to her in combat," replied Nagata.

"Useless?" he shouted, scrambling out of his seat. "How am I useless? I'm stronger than you are!"

Nagata's eyes flashed to him, a spark of resentment registered in the bright hued eyes. "You think she doesn't know that?" he asked, strained. "You are the strongest, the trump card, but you know what else you are? You're her Achilles' heel."

"That's complete bullshit! She just doesn't want to use me!"

"Nagisa knows that if she sends you out into the battlefield, her focus will be just on you—"

"It's unfair!"

Death joined him on his feet and grabbed him by the jacket. "She fucking raised you without anyone's help! She took on the responsibility on her own, didn't want Yamato or I to bother even though she was so young; we were just supposed to make sure we ate well. You meant everything to her," he shouted, the anger boiling. "If she sends you out there, to her, it's like sending out her own son with a bright yellow sign that says, 'KILL HERE!'"

He tossed him backward roughly.

Touma's back fell straight through the coffee table; his head hit the ground hard. The weight of something ominous fell over his body, paralyzing him. "St—"

Nagata jabbed his foot right under his chin and bent over to make eye contact. "But you know this already, don't you?" he said threateningly. "Of course you knew, she treated you differently from the oldest and you loved her like a mother all those years."

The banging on the door suddenly stopped.

Touma struggled, breathing quickening, and his eyes searched his surroundings wildly. "Do—"

"You want to fuck this up like you did the Fourth Cycle?" he seethed. "Break her trust again?"

Ichigo appeared in his periphery. Keigo and Tatsuki rushed into the living room. Everything was eerily quiet as the pressure of his presence started weighing down on all of them.

"Enishi." A soft hand landed on his forearm, the gentleness matched the tone of her voice. His attention snapped to Haruka standing beside him. An orb of calm set in, rolling over the animosity in the air to lighten the atmosphere and free the others of the sudden prickling of their flesh. "I won't repeat myself again."

A flicker of her eyes let him see the golden specks taking over the blue irises when everything around him spun and blurred. He felt excruciating pain as his back crashed through the various adjacent rooms of the building until his body shot straight to the asphalt. He bounced off the road, lucky it had been vacant and tumbled straight into an ancient oak, tangled it its interlaced branches. The outdoor fumes, the burnt asphalt, the scent of nearby flowers and leafy stench stung his nostrils, mixing with the sharp smell of blood. He touched his nose gingerly, slick warm blood oozed onto his fingertips.

Bleary eyes stared beyond the flood of sunlight streaking through the leaves clustered over his head and followed the dancing shadows until his head stopped spinning. He straightened out to a sharp pain in his chest; breathing deeply elicited the worst of pains.

Commander of all Arcana, the Queen has the ability to _change _her Arcana. She could become The Devil and thus obtain his ability of Heat, or take on The Lovers' personality and shift the mood of a furious room. But the single flicker of her wrist that forced his body backward without help of stopping had no Arcana. That all went back to her original position in Soul Society and the bar she set for the generations that followed.

Housen Nagisa was chosen Queen for that reason.

Nagata slid off the tree, down the trunk and hit the sidewalk, coughing violently into his open hands. Blood seeped through his fingers and stained his dark jeans. He lifted his eyes, unconsciously allowing his blood to boil and turn his eyes a sharp golden. Through the gaping hole in the edge of the building, he saw the flicker of golden brown hair.

Haruka stood there looking down at him, ordering him wordlessly into the building.

Grumbling beneath his breath, he picked himself off the floor and headed across the street.

Bearing witness to the power contained in Haruka's slight frame, Ichigo began looking at her differently. The silent warning seeped into his flesh and it assured him that she was much stronger than he anticipated. It had been effortless for her to send Death flying. He could only imagine what she could do at the peak of her abilities.

Hard to admit, but…it scared him.

* * *

_**Thanks to**: reality deviant, ruler of dragons, and Aries01xD_ _for reviewing the previous chapter_.

* * *

Sorry for the Twilight reference, but imagine that from Tolstoy to Stephenie Meyer - what a dreadful time Ageha must have had there. Thank you for reading.

Chapter 18 on **April 7th**. :)

Preview is up at the same place!


	19. Words Unspoken

**Chapter Eighteen**,"Words Unspoken"

Touma followed Haruka like a lost child the rest of the day and for the first time she let him. Occasionally, his brother threw shy looks in his direction, but quickly turned away when he caught him staring. He imagined he was sorry for the rupture he caused between them, but asking Nagata to care was like asking him to stay calm.

Nagisa did the logical thing.

If a mother witnessed her child getting pushed around, she would speak up. Nagisa saw Death bullying her precious baby and she knocked him back to his senses, even if it meant breaking three ribs and an arm.

A dark shadow appeared in his periphery as he watched reruns of a 80s show.

Tatsuki held a bottle of cherry soda in front of him. "Drink?"

Nagata took it grudgingly, opening it.

"You should see a doctor."

Death stared at the dark-haired girl as if bothered by the suggestion. "Doctors are pricks."

Tatsuki took a seat in the armchair. "Three broken ribs and a broken arm aren't going to heal right if you leave them alone," she advised, then shot a disgusted look at the towel draped over his arm and the protruding bone underneath. "Besides, it's getting gross looking at your arm."

"Nobody asked you to look," he grumbled.

She took a gulp of her bottled water while she stared at him eyeing the black can. "You do like cherry soda, no?"

His eyes flickered to her, but he remained silent.

"I see you drinking it all the time, so I assumed."

"Yeah." He took a sip, looked at her face, then back to the top of the can. "Thanks."

"I can go with you if you want."

"Where?"

"Hospital," she answered, annoyed that he hadn't been paying attention.

"No means no."

"Well, you never said no," she replied smartly.

Nagata's eyes narrowed. "Just go play with your boyfriend and leave me alone."

Tatsuki left her seat indifferently; even though the boyfriend comment was a complete insult whenever Keigo was concerned, she decided it was best to stay as far from an argument with Death as possible.

.

.

Haruka's gaze followed Ichigo everywhere, sometimes pleadingly and other times wonderingly. He avoided her everywhere she went and maybe he was just annoyed by his teenage stupidity. Nagata wanted, by all means, to be considerate about the orange-haired brat, but couldn't seem to find it in his heart to do it. He had been watching Ichigo closely since they met and as of late, he painfully reminded him of Shima, the poor fool in love with The World. They were the same sneaking glances with the same asinine desire to protect her, as strong as she was.

The only difference between them was Shima was a downright coward, but at least he was honest with his heart. Not that Nagata ever let him be. Shima annoyed him and it came second nature to scare him shitless. He was terrified of him, even while he still ran his own division in Soul Society, more so after his promotion and return to become take his place among the Arcana. Shima avoided meeting with Nagisa when she was in his presence and merely brought her a bouquet of red peonies and a note in which he professed his love. Shima practically wet his pants when he shouted at him across the courtyard to stay away from Nagisa. He did that to people—rendered them stupid with his presence.

Ichigo developed feelings for his job and he probably had not realized it yet. He might have mistaken it for comfort or likened it to the usual urge to save the person that needed saving. If described, the feelings were an unwatered bud.

Nagata was sick of watching it dry up to die.

"It changes nothing," Nagata said aloud.

Ichigo had entered the kitchen for another canned soda while Nagata ate the spaghetti Touma left on the counter with an 'I'm sorry' note. The teenager paused upon opening the refrigerator doors.

"What?"

"You're scared of her," stated Death, cutting straight to the point. "You never thought about the possibility of Nagisa being stronger than you were at your peak. You felt her energy flood the apartment, sink into your skin so that it felt like poison and even now, you know that it's not completely gone. Arcana energy is best felt by humans, so you sense it lingering in the apartment—the air you breathe, the light in every room, the soothing calm in the atmosphere. We aren't a joke, Kurosaki."

Ichigo stayed deathly quiet.

"Want to know a secret?"

It looked as though Ichigo wanted to say no, but couldn't will himself to admit.

"That wasn't her Arcana power. All of that is thanks to Soul Society's conditioning. Has she told you who she was before?"

"No," he managed.

"You heard of the Kidōshū?"

"Once or twice."

"Nagisa established it—her niche. Kidō was her devil's craft. All the spells that are forbidden now were of her creation." Nagata smirked widely at the sight of his grimace. "She used a strengthening kidō against me, at only a percentage of her power. Scary shit, no?"

"That's impossible," he said, struggling with his disbelief.

"I don't think you understood when I told you Soul Society created us as a last resort." Nagata fought the urge to snort. "We clean up messes they **can't**. We're stronger than all of them combined."

Ichigo grimaced. "Then why haven't you exacted your revenge if you're all so strong?"

"Nagisa doesn't like to fight. Without set authority the Arcana does whatever they want," he stated. "You're smart, figure it out, and if you can't, ask Nagi. She's your box of answers and she'll be willing to give you any if you ask her nicely. Just stop looking at her like a zoo animal. She is still human."

"Yeah?" he asked, angry, taking a can from inside the refrigerator and slamming the door shut. "So how's your arm?"

Nagata laughed deprecatingly. "Better than you'll be after Nagisa's through with you."

.

.

When Haruka made contact, she was still wearing his maroon sweater over a ruffled neon skirt and ridiculous bear feet slippers with a cat eared hat on her head. Telling her how stupid she looked was the first thing out of his mouth, though it should have been an apology for threatening Touma's life. Holed up in ryokan to apartment sparked unfound irritation as he unconsciously begun seeing his freedom slip away for the sake of protecting a girl he thought might bring peace to feel a jab of betrayal. Haruka was Nagisa. Touma figured it out before anyone else did. He should have known from the start.

His arrogance let the information slip him by, though the signs were always present.

Haruka laughed. Her face lit up like a city full of lights. "I know!"

Unconsciously, he mirrored the smile.

"I'm a bearcat, brother." She gnarled her hands as though they were paws and let out a strangled cry that sounded like both a menacing growl and hiss. She laughed, embarrassed. "I didn't know whether to be cat or bear when it came to it."

Nagata snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth as the hysterics poured out. She laughed along with him until they fell into silence.

"I overreacted again," she admitted, abashed.

"You are powerful Nagisa," he said straightly, taking the small cold hands at her sides in his. "There is so much strength in you and you have not once used it against them."

"Wouldn't that ruin the mystery?" she questioned playfully. "Have you not always been a fan of such mysteries?"

"Are you saying you waited this long for my sake?"

"I have waited for the sake of my brothers. All three of you."

"Yamato betrayed us."

"Yamato can be fixed—"

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "You cannot _fix_ him. He is not broken or confused. He wants what he cannot have like he has his entire life."

Haruka removed his hands from her arms. "I have waited for the three of you. Things will be difficult this cycle, but this time we'll surely end this as it started. Together."

Death said no more.

She healed his broken arm and ribs before returning to the adjacent apartment. He stayed for a moment after the door had closed and returned to his room that he no longer shared with Ichigo.

.

.

Nagata shoved Haruka into the counter, forcing her to spill the soda she pilfered from Ichigo. He hoped all her bad habits died along with her through the years, but it seemed they were still intact. Nagisa had the disturbing tendency of stealing things when she wanted someone's attention, only at times when she couldn't get herself to talk to that someone. She once went as far as taking Genryūsai Yamamoto's sword when she wanted to talk about putting an end to the Arcana's creation and couldn't exactly put it in script. How she managed to do that unnoticed, Nagata still asked himself to that date.

At least she had only stolen his soda. Last time she had done something stupid to him, Second Cycle, she left him without clothes and money, but she at least had the courtesy to leave a ransom note. You learned to appreciate her kindness during desperate times.

"My cola!" she squeaked, trying to salvage what she could before it reached the edges of the counter.

"Stealing is a bad habit, Nagi."

"I asked to borrow this!" she defended.

"How do you borrow a soda?" he snapped.

"I wanted to separate the bubbles from the cola!"

Nagata took a wet rag from the sink and scooped up the mess. "Stop stealing from him and just talk to him directly. You are not this shy."

Haruka frowned as she settled into the stool, drinking up the bit of cola that remained. "I tried speaking to him in Penguin, but he doesn't get it."

He looked at her skeptically. "You speak Penguin?"

"…I am not ashamed of this."

Touma appeared from the hallway to join them. "I'm making sandwiches for lunch. What kind do you want?"

"Turkey," answered Nagata and Haruka in unison.

Touma peered into the adjacent apartment in search of the rest of their inhabitants. "Where're the kids?"

"Arcade and ice cream," she said dully.

"How's Hanged Man not attracting shinigami?"

"Reflection Kidō," she replied.

Touma and Nagata looked at each other and then back to her.

"They didn't invite you, did they?" asked Touma tentatively.

She shook her head.

"You want me to beat Kurosaki up?" asked Nagata, clenching his fists. "I can have him crying in a second. He'll think twice over about not inviting you."

"I want you not to go anywhere near Kurosaki," she grumbled.

It was an unconscious order; she might not have noticed it as she let her head slam on the countertop.

"Fine, I won't go near him." Nagata leaned into the counter. "If he doesn't want to talk to you, you don't have to talk to him."

"That's right! He should be grateful you're going to give him his stupid powers back!" added Touma. "We could just as easily toss him back into his stupid, boring human life until that pack of stalkers show—"

"What did I tell you about talking to Ageha?" whined Haruka. "No looking into people's future!"

"I thought Ageha didn't want his ability back," started Nagata. "It's why Kouyou had it. For what it's worth, he couldn't even predict your reappearance."

"No, that's not his fault," argued Touma. "The ability weakens in the hands of different Arcana. Not anyone can maneuver it quite as well as The Hermit."

"So what happens to us?"

Touma opened his mouth in response, but Haruka slammed her palm over the countertop. "I'm a monster," she started, drawing their attention back to the previously abandoned subject. "He doesn't need to talk to me at all. I come out of children's closets when night falls."

Nagata glared at Touma, expecting him to say something that might ease her worries, but the idiot redhead merely shrugged.

"Don't talk to him, give him a taste of his own medicine," decided Nagata.

"…What if I want to speak to him?" Haruka lifted her face from the countertop, looking at both brothers, hopeful.

At that point, Nagata couldn't resist.

"Well, you just shout at him," he started, without an evil smirk to give him away, just dead serious. "Say, 'Hey fucker, I need to talk to you!" and he'll come to you as quick as lightning."

Haruka stared at him in mild disbelief. "…That is very rude."

Touma caught on quickly. "It is, but it's a definite attention grabber! And that's what you want, his attention."

"I don't believe you."

"Let's go try it on the street," stated Nagata, straightening out. "See for yourself."

.

.

"Male or female?" asked Haruka.

Her brother had accompanied to the courtyard in the shopping district where many shoppers and non-shoppers gathered to indulge in the stone benches and each other's company.

"Male," said Nagata.

"Definitely male," said Touma, nodding.

"Okay, male." Haruka concentrated on finding the ideal male for the job and spotted a boy with thick glasses rushing through the crowds with his satchel clutched to his chest. She pointed at him rapidly, following his path with her index finger. "What about him?"

"Too nerdy," replied Nagata.

"Even at your stature, you would make him cry," added Touma.

"I'm not scary," she argued.

"You're a nightmare waiting to be unleashed."

"What was that?"

Nagata coughed slyly. "Nothing."

Haruka continued her search and found a boy at around twelve wandering around the courtyard as if expecting company, but Touma considered him too young.

The process of elimination left out a cross-dresser in a bright yellow wig, an awkward businessman checking his watch every five minutes, and a man in black suspenders. She had grown tired of her suggestions being shot down when a group of delinquents pushed past them dressed in their black school uniforms. The obvious leader was tall, broad, and ugly with bright green hair and piercings everywhere.

Touma let out a strangled sound and bit down on his knuckles when she twisted around to face him.

Nagata tapped her shoulder. "Green hair, right there."

Haruka stepped forward confidently, not bothering to give the decision a second thought. "Hey fucker, I need to talk to you!"

The minute Nagata and Touma howled in laughter, she understood she had fallen for another of their stupid pranks.

The delinquent jerked around as though someone had just punched him in the back of the head and stared her down, nostrils flared. His followers all shot her mocking looks or laughed as their leader's voice boomed through the courtyard.

"What did you call me you bitch?"

Haruka swallowed hard. She hated this sort of situation. She stepped backward instinctively as she raised her hands, prepared to abandon whatever pride she had and beg for forgiveness, anything as long as it meant not hurting a human being.

The taunting looks of his subordinates prickled her skin uncomfortably as their voices reached her ears. Nagata and Touma were too busy laughing to care somewhere in the backdrop of what may lead to her accidental death, which would make it permanent.

"Look at her, she's scared an' shit."

"Aww, did we bump ya girly."

"Don't bother with 'er, she'll prolly just shit herself."

Haruka flinched as the green-haired giant stepped closer, clenching his meaty hands into tight fists.

"I would try to explain myself," she said loudly, "but I'm sure you wouldn't understand and—basically I'm sorry."

"Yer gonna have to speak up," mocked the giant. "I can't hear ya!"

Haruka gulped in some air and shouted. "I said I'm sorry!"

The shadow of his hand appeared across her face. She screwed her eyes shut, afraid of what might happen if he touched her directly when she heard a voice nearby.

"Don't touch her!"

Opening her eyes, she saw Ichigo punch the giant square in the chin, sending him barreling backwards onto his groupies. The large delinquent stumbled to his feet and lunged at Ichigo, but he was easily defeated, along with the rest of his cronies. Haruka stared at his back in complete awe, ignoring the hysterics behind her.

"Why would you do that?" shouted Tatsuki, her comment directed at the laughing brothers.

"That—was—hilarious!" breathed Nagata between laughs.

"What if she had gotten hurt?" snapped Tatsuki.

"They can't even touch her, she's The World!"

"That doesn't matter!" Ichigo stepped forward, glaring at both brothers. "She could have been killed by—"

Haruka hugged him without warning, burying her face in his side. Ichigo felt the color rise from his feet to his head until he was beet red.

Tatsuki, Keigo, Nagata, and Touma watched as he slowly turned to stone, giving them every reason to burst into laughter.

Haruka looked at him. "Thank you."

"N-No problem," he managed weakly.

Her brothers shrieked in laughter.

.

.

Ichigo found Haruka sleeping on the fur carpet an hour after they returned from the courtyard. She ventured into the adjacent apartment to live down the mortification of being picked on by a hooligan and to watch a psychological thriller she rented on the way to the apartment. Tatsuki and Keigo went on ahead for lunch. He spent the entire night replaying the conversation Death forced down his throat. There were plenty truths and fears in his words that he had negated since she awakened to The World.

Somewhere in his mind, he imagined things would never escalate to war, but she had used power yesterday that far surpassed any he had seen before. It clarified the images of a battle that had only been fantasy.

He took a seat next to her and waited.

Haruka roused from sleep when a plate smashed in the kitchen and Tatsuki shouted at Keigo for breaking it. She opened her eyes to see him sitting there quietly watching the final minutes of her movie.

"Want to trade sweaters?"

Ichigo looked to her, startled. "What?"

"I give you my sweater for yours."

He noticed it was Nagata's maroon sweater and it didn't bother him as much as it had when they were strangers to each other.

"Why do you want it?"

"Because your sweater is better than mine." She sat up, tossing the fleece blanket from her legs. "And I want to wear it."

"What if I don't want your sweater?" he asked seriously.

Haruka tugged off her sweater before answering and tossed it aside. "We can just share it," she said, laughing. "How stupid would we look wearing it together?"

"I'd rather not be on Nagata's bad side."

"You shouldn't be scared of Death's wrath and never of what he can do." She paused as he wondered why she decided to tell him that. "It's his kindness you should be worried about."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Haruka shrugged. "Well, if it makes you feel better he doesn't have a good side."

"That makes it worse."

"It is, but he's very funny."

"I don't see how that's funny at all."

Haruka thrust the maroon sweater in his arms. "Hand it over please."

"Fine. Fine."

Ichigo removed his black hoodie and held it out for her to take. She pulled it on quickly and jumped onto her feet.

"There's a public pool around here," she said quickly. "I hope you are still willing to break in with me."

"We can just go in the morning," he replied, standing.

"We can, but it's better going at night." She headed to the doorway into the adjacent apartment. "We can swim with the crocodiles then."

He followed her. "There won't be any crocodiles!"

She laughed aloud again and he somehow admitted to liking the sound.

Ichigo grabbed her wrist before she reached the doorknob. "If I asked you not to fight, would you do it?"

Haruka turned slowly, taken aback not by insult but the possibility. "Why?"

"I don't—" He felt the heat creeping up his neck. "If I don't want you to see you hurt or killed, would you not do it?"

"Is it prudent of you to be led astray by emotions?"

"Is it wrong?"

She blinked, looking away as she gradually loosened his grip on her arm. "_If _I fight, I won't control my emotions."

Irritated.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I could ask the same of you Kurosaki, but if they needed you, truly needed you in the battlefield, would you stay out because I asked you to do it, or would you go on?"

The answered blinked back at him.

"I know the outcome of this war, even though I shouldn't," she went on. "Our duty is to follow the map written for us. We aren't allowed to question it."

Haruka's fingers lingered over his. He took her hand fully, smaller in his and cold.

"Breakfast," she reminded quietly, tugging free of his grasp.

He tightened his hold. "I'm sorry."

She smiled easily. "I know."

The sound of whispering called his thoughts back from sea and made him realize he was holding Haruka's hand with an iron grip. He opened his mouth to speak, but Haruka raised a finger to her lips. She crept closer to the door, took the handle and twisted it noiselessly. She gestured him closer. As he approached, the hushed voices became clearer.

"_Do it! Do it! Do it!_" came Nagata's voice.

"_You're sick,_" insulted Tatsuki.

"_Then why are you listening too?_"

"_I thought he was asexual all my life, I have to listen in._"

"_It's __**too**__ quiet,_" said Touma confused.

"_Did he do it?_" asked Keigo, hyped.

"_Why aren't you in there stopping this?_" hissed Touma.

"_Nagisa does what she wants._"

"_But what if she didn't want this!_"

"_Oh trust me, she w—_"

Haruka pushed the door opened with such force it smacked into Touma's face. The rest of the eavesdroppers scrambled back into their seats, leaving the bleeding redhead on the ground to take the blame.

"Forget the turkey sandwiches! I want a happy face pancake!" announced Haruka, stomping in.

Ichigo stepped over Touma as Haruka did and only glanced at him with pity.

"Today is a big day!" started Haruka as she took a seat next to Tatsuki. "Asano-senpai will learn how to _dodge _from Touma. Arisawa-senpai will spend the day with En-chan. And I'm gonna help Kurosaki get his powers back. We gotta eat well."

"Can you really give him back his powers?" asked Tatsuki curiously.

"Yep! He'll be as good as new as soon as I finish with him."

Touma stood in the kitchen with a wet cloth on his nose. "Good luck, kid, you're gonna need it."

Ichigo sat down to Haruka's right. "Why?"

"Nagisa isn't the kindest of instructors," replied Nagata toothily. "You best not make her angry. Does a complete one eighty. She won't be giving out hugs and kisses."

* * *

**Thanks to**: ruler of dragons, reality deviant, and Ghost2113 for reviewing the previous chapter.

* * *

Happy Easter, if you celebrate it. If not, Happy Saturday! :)

I totally know it's on Sunday, consider this an early gift.

I am also taking Shakesperean quotes for Haruka to woo our young hero thanks to **reality deviant** for the brilliant idea. I don't know any because I was never a big Shakespeare fan at school. I was the absolute worst student when it came to his plays. Also, **ruler of dragons**, Tatsuki will wear that red shirt if I have to write up how a twister broke into their apartment to steal her decent clothes.

Thank you for reading! :)

In the next chapter you will see the story either tie together or fall further apart.


	20. Three Worlds in Peril

To avoid confusion: the first half takes place before "Death and His Friends," the second half directly after its final chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**,"Three Worlds in Peril"

- **Karakura Town** -

Ichigo missed weeks of school again.

Chad dropped by his house whenever he had the time to spare. Orihime passed by his home more times after her part time job. Ishida only had the suspicions he kept to himself.

Yuzu caught Orihime outside taking home leftover bread and somehow, staring at the cheery young girl, she found the courage to voice her worries.

"Uhm, has Kurosaki-kun been sick?"

"Oh." Yuzu smiled. "No, he's okay. He's at the Wakatsuki house."

Orihime fidgeted. "Wakatsuki-san has been missing a lot of school, hasn't she?"

"Wakatsuki-san has been sick the entire time," answered Yuzu grimly, worried though she had only met the girl once. "He should be back by the start of the next semester."

She had a sneaking suspicion something was brewing at his surroundings without her taking notice since the start of the semester, but he wasn't the only one missing school. Frankly, she grew more and more worried about Tatsuki's absence the last two weeks.

Orihime visited her house on the first day she missed. Tatsuki's mother invited her in for a cup of tea and explained that she had gone to a training camp with her dojo that would take up a few weeks. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. Orihime was certain Tatsuki mentioned it once or twice, but thought it might be taking place during a scheduled break.

"A tutor is accompanying her to help her keep up with her schoolwork," eased Arisawa. "She calls whenever she can. I'll ask her to check up on you, I'm surprised she hasn't had time to give you a call."

"That's okay," answered Orihime passively. "I'm sure she's busy."

Orihime tried calling her late that evening, but her call went straight to voice mail, leaving her skeptical. She left a short message, a mere greeting and wished Tatsuki good luck.

Asano missed four consecutive days of school that same week. He returned at the end of the week, pale and unlike himself. There were moments he looked a bit jittery. Wakatsuki Arashi met with him occasionally in the corridors, she noticed. His concentration was off by a large margin and he looked nothing short of disconcerted with their run-ins. During that time, she told Chad and Ishida about Ichigo and when asked, she said Tatsuki went to a training camp for the dojo. She noted a hint of skepticism from Ishida, but she chose to ignore it. Perhaps it's best to wallow in the certainties and not doubt them.

Shortly after the assurance, Orihime returned home and tried contacting Tatsuki again. Sitting at the foot of the bed with the phone to her ear, the ringing bounced around in her head. She likened the moment to a feeling of helplessness. She spent her entire life knowing that Tatsuki stayed in one place and always gave her a fair warning if she was going on training camps or inviting her to family vacations. Something happened. Quite possibly something terrible. She pushed the thoughts out of her head to avoid overthinking and left another voice mail consisting of an apology for the many phone calls.

Orihime trotted into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth the following morning when she heard the phone blaring. She rushed to answer without thinking and nearly gasped at the sound of a familiar voice. Tatsuki had called her.

"Sorry about all the phone calls," she quickly apologized, unable to calm her thumping heart. "You usually answer…so I worried."

Tatsuki laughed, barely audible in the lively background. "It's fine. The stupid instructor in charge confiscated everyone's phone—"

"_He broke ours!_"

_"I can hear you!" _hissed a nearby voice.

"You were supposed to," growled Tatsuki in defense. "Ugh, he's a complete asshole. He hates cell phones apparently—anyway, everything's fine with me. Stop worrying, okay?"

_"Come to the convenience store with me, Tatsuki,_" called a whiny male. "_Stupid Enishi doesn't want to leave the princess to her deathbed—_"

"_Let her finish her call, at least!_"

Orihime's eyebrows creased at the distant, but familiar voice. A name quickly rose to her mind and accidentally left her lips. "Kurosaki-kun?"

"Why are you all so noisy?" snapped Tatsuki. "Don't you have sleeping beauty to watch? Get out of my room!"

_"Tatsuki!_"

"In a minute Touma!" Tatsuki let out an exasperated huff. "What did you just say?"

Orihime blinked. "I thought I just heard Kurosaki-kun?"

"Ichigo?" asked Tatsuki. "Why'd he be here? He's taking care of Wakatsuki. Anyway, I'm going to have to call you later."

"Okay. Bye Tatsuki-chan."

"I'll see you soon Orihime."

Orihime nodded absently. She proceeded to change into her uniform and headed for school earlier than usual, complacent with Tatsuki's random phone call, and made a mental note to visit her home to tell her parents about it. She had second thoughts throughout her walk, but settled with the idea that perhaps Tatsuki had gone ahead and called them.

At lunchtime, Ishida approached her.

"Asano-san missed school today," she started wondrously, watching the clouds pass overhead. She held a half-eaten bento on her lap, the chopsticks held above one of her favorite concoctions.

"Kurosaki isn't at Wakatsuki's house," started Ishida, fixing his glasses over the bridge of his nose. He drew her attention instantly as his gaze wandered beyond the gate encasing the rooftop. "Have you noticed the sudden absence of Hollow?"

Orihime's brow furrowed, both subjects strung a deep cord. "Where do you think he went?"

Ishida shrugged, leaning into the wall. "Wakatsuki isn't there either. Neither twin."

"How do you know?"

"I overheard a conversation between my father and Wakatsuki's," he answered truthfully. "I think Kurosaki's involved in something strange again. Those Wakatsuki twins must be in the center."

"Wasn't there an influx of Hollow a few days ago?"

"Yes, I think I'm going to ask Urahara-san about it." Ishida inclined his head. "He should know better than anyone, especially if Kurosaki is planning to do something stupid."

"I'll go with you," said Orihime quickly, covering up her bento and rising to her feet.

* * *

A thin, delicate veil fell upon the world. All Hollow fled and all shinigami felt the sudden chill of years upon years of culminating dark energy.

Urahara and Yoruichi stood side by side in front of Urahara Shōten, eyes directed skyward to the gray clouds bringing in the rumbling sound of thunder and early showers. Standing atop the rooftop, cross-armed and weathered, Wakatsuki Hiko explored the concaves of his mind for an alternative to the sudden call to war. Whoever remained to be recruited might feel the number etched to their skin burn or hear the voice of their queen beckoning them to succumb to her power. Every member of the Arcana was automatically exposed, awakened or not, their power levels were registering into the beeping monitor sitting behind closed doors.

"Nagisa is awakening," said Urahara grimly.

"Which one is Nagisa?" questioned Yoruichi.

"The World. She commands the Arcana, brightest shinigami Soul Society ever met."

Tsukabishi Tessai emerged from the entrance to Urahara Shōten, the mere mention of Housen Nagisa reawakened childhood memories of the many stories told about her and the teachings and the creation of the Kidōshū. "Every kidō she created is now forbidden, punishable by Central 46."

Yoruichi faced him. "She's the strongest?"

"No," answered Hiko. "Compared to the others, no, she is quite possibly the weakest."

"What's so special besides the history?"

"It's hard to say," replied Urahara, attempting to recall his only meeting with Nagisa at the conclusion of the Fourth Cycle. He watched her declare war against Hiko, said he and Soul Society could maintain their peace so long as they stayed away from Enishi's future reincarnations. White-haired and delicate like a glass doll with a powerful resolve and the extra dab that made her both incredibly stupid but just as valuable—humanity, she was too human. "You need to meet her."

"Will I get to meet her?"

"Not without facing Death." Hiko shifted. "We can expect Devil to be there as well. We'll need to kill them to get near."

"Devil survived Kurosaki's Getsuga, didn't he?" questioned Urahara. "Do you think she plans to use him?"

"If she doesn't decide she only needs herself to destroy all worlds."

Urahara imagined the natural imbalance the break of every world may cause, the disasters that could result in the death of normal life. Everyone had been forewarned for that reason, all sides including Hueco Mundo and its new order. Soul Society prepared the remainder of Wakatsuki's secret Squadron, Sixth and Ninth Division, along with Twelfth Division for an invasion.

Kurosaki Ichigo and Wakatsuki Haruka remained in the hands of Death, but they had been scouted in the site of Nagisa's awakening prior to their venture outdoors to properly sense the horror of her awakening. The piercing howl of Hollow filled the air, many died upon contact with the cloud of daunting dark energy.

It was determined during that time that there were three unawakened Arcana in the vicinity, the third stayed on their radar for mere seconds before disappearing. Hiko double-checked the screen, **Judgment **flashed ominously before his eyes. The remaining three were Empress, Sun, and the Original Magician. The surprise came in determining the amount of Arcana currently in Soul Society, five in total, all unawakened but showing signs. The remaining members of the Arcana were scattered and difficult to pinpoint on a map. The power surge only lasted a couple of seconds, by now the remaining members of the Arcana only felt the aftereffects of the awakening.

Tessai reentered the shop at the first sign of rainfall and returned with a large umbrella opened over his head to offer shelter to both Urahara and Yoruichi.

Urahara turned in the direction of the sidewalk to see Orihime, Ishida, and Chad; all three teenagers were evidently seeking answers. Orihime stepped forward first, warily, holding an umbrella over her head as the first pelt of rain hit the ground. Thunder boomed before either one of them had something to say.

"That's Wakatsuki's father," said Ishida, surprised.

Orihime looked over her shoulder to him for confirmation and then returned her gaze to the blond shinigami standing on the rooftop of Urahara Shōten. He remained silent, lost in his own thoughts, forever burdened by the hundreds of years spent warring with the Arcana. He worried for the safety of his daughter, wondering day by day if she remained unharmed or if her life was in jeopardy in Death's hands.

Urahara smiled cheerily at the teenagers. "What brings you three to my humble shop?"

Yoruichi shot him a bothered look. "You know why they're here."

Orihime looked at them hopeful. The others remained quiet.

Urahara's smile vanished. "You are here about Kurosaki," he started, turning towards the entrance of his shop. "Why don't we talk inside?" He paused at the entrance and lifted his eyes to Hiko. "Would you like to join us, Hiko-san?"

"No, I need to return to Soul Society," he answered. "I need to reacquaint myself with what remains of the Fourth Cycle." He dropped down from the ceiling, landing gracefully. "When you have the time, contact Kuna Mashiro, she is the Original."

Orihime watched Hiko disappear while Urahara ushered them indoors. Tessai quickly stepped into the kitchen to prepare tea and Yoruichi stood by the open doorway as if awaiting another round of visitors. They took seats around the table holding a beeping machine. Urahara surveyed the information on the screen.

"Kurosaki and Wakatsuki's daughter Haruka were taken by a man called Housen Enishi," started Urahara, "but you may know him as Nagata Taishi."

"The history teacher?" questioned Orihime.

"Yamaguchi is here," interjected Yoruichi, putting the explanation to a pause.

Tomo stepped into the shop, where she quickly kicked off her shoes and threw her umbrella where the rest stayed propped up. She looked around the table, greeting people left and right before seating herself next to Orihime.

"Sorry, I'm late, I had a headache." Tomo looked around the table, earning a questionable glance from Urahara before his eyes returned to the screen. "So where were we? About Kurosaki?"

"Kurosaki along with Wakatsuki Haruka were taken by Nagata Taishi."

Tomo snorted noisily. "The history teacher? Ichigo was kidnapped by a history teacher—I mean, I get Wakatsuki, she's tiny, but Ichigo!" She could barely contain her laughter. "Couldn't he just kick his ass and come back?"

"If he could, he would have done it," stated Ishida.

"But that's hilarious!" continued Tomo. "Have any of you tried calling those crime fighters?"

Ishida stared at her oddly. "Crime fighters?"

"They're called policemen, Tomo-san," corrected Orihime.

Tomo nodded in understanding. "Well, have you?"

"It isn't quite as simple," replied Urahara, continuing where he left off. "You see, Nagata Taishi is an entity called Death, he along with twenty others assemble a group we call Arcana." He paused as he typed something up in his beeping monitor. "The Arcana are an elite force whose sole purpose is maintaining the balance of Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and the Human World. Threats to this "balance" awaken them into the world to eliminate it, and once a mission is fulfilled, they return to hibernation until a new threat arises. In Soul Society, they are considered the "last resort." If all else fails, they rise as the final defense to return the world to its safest once more."

Orihime felt a jab in her chest. "Is Kurosaki-kun safe?"

Ishida frowned. "Could they possible consider him a threat to the balance?"

"I understand how it could be plausible," answered Urahara, crossing both arms over his chest. "But that is impossible. Upon their creation, the Arcana developed a conscious and decided to rebel against Soul Society by declaring war against the Spirit King. With the help of Wakatsuki Hiko and a specialized group, the Arcana were defeated, but since the moment of their demise, a curse was inflicted so that they may continue rising from death through rebirth."

Yoruichi shut the doors quietly and found a seat nearby as Tessai served tea for everyone.

Urahara took a sip of his before continuing. "Each rebirth is called a Cycle. For hundreds of years, wars have been waged by Death and his followers and thousands have been killed, but no other Cycle has been as terrible as what awaits us now."

"Can't that Wakatsuki do something about it?" asked Tomo, unconsciously scratching her hand. "I mean, he's been defeating them left and right all those years?"

"He is prepared to fight once more, but this time, he won't simply be fighting replicas of what used to be the First Cycle. He will be faced with the First Cycle in its entirety."

"What does that mean?" asked Ishida.

"The Arcana awakening for the Fifth Cycle are direct reincarnations of the First Cycle. They are ten-times stronger, they have every reason to destroy the balance they were created to protect, and have the power to do so if we allow them."

"…Why does Death want Kurosaki-kun and Wakatsuki-san?" asked Orihime, recognizing the dread snaking through her system as another boom thundered outside.

"Hiko and I assume he wanted leverage against Hiko. We expect him to return both unharmed once The World awakes."

"Who's that?"

"The Queen," answered Urahara. "If we have any chance of ending this without casualties, we have to make contact with her and ask for peace."

"If they are trying to destroy the balance, what use is it to create a treaty with their queen?" reasoned Ishida.

"The Queen wants peace and freedom above all. If approached correctly, she will listen and make a considerate decision. She has many Cycles before surrendered to Hiko willingly."

Urahara explained the remaining details, specifically warning them to steer clear from Death, admitting he posed the biggest threat. He elaborated on the treaty Nagisa made with Hiko about staying away from Death and how he failed to uphold his end of the bargain, thus bringing upon the three world's peril never before seen. He answered all questions truthfully, especially when Chad asked if he was entirely certain that neither Kurosaki nor Wakatsuki would be in danger in Death's hands. He couldn't deny that they ran a risk even being in his presence.

"We have to help them," started Orihime.

"Inoue-san is right, Kurosaki doesn't even have powers and Wakatsuki—" He drifted off, not knowing whether having a shinigami father made Haruka the same.

"Wakatsuki Haruka isn't a shinigami; she is completely powerless and suffers from a terminal illness that if not taken care of can be deadly," added Urahara.

"All the more reason to help them!" finished Tomo. "He might be plotting their deaths as we speak."

"Death is too powerful," replied Urahara. "Challenging him will only result in your death."

"What if we talk to The World instead?" suggested Orihime. "We can ask her to let them go, can't we?"

"Only if she doesn't release them after the storm passes."

"And if she doesn't?" pressed Ishida.

"We offer her a trade."

"If she rejects, that means war," finished Chad, fully understanding.

"Exactly."

"Can they be defeated at their strongest?"

"If we can recruit Judgment, we can defeat them permanently," said Urahara gravely. "But as he is related to the strongest of the Arcana, we doubt it possi—"

A cloud of black smoke appeared atop the table and from it a battered young man with golden brown hair materialized. Urahara and Yoruichi reacted immediately. He summoned his zanpakutō and Yoruichi threw a punch at him as the rest of them scrambled onto their feet. He swept out of range for both attacks, stumbling over his feet as he stepped off the table.

Urahara looked at him directly, lowering his sword. "Wakatsuki Arashi."

Arashi coughed blood, holding his ribs. "I accept."

"Wakatsuki's brat?" snapped Yoruichi. "He's an Arcana?"

"You accept what?" asked Urahara.

"You wanted to recruit Judgment. I accept," he finished painfully. "On the condition that The World is the last one standing. I want to kill her myself."

* * *

**beta'd by**: LULuckyTiger

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

So, it's totally been a month. That's an unfair combination of my stupidity (writing ch. 20 before ch. 19) and college (I did so much writing for my writing class and other classes I questioned my desire to write professionally. I practically wrote a book...soo, that should totally explain my sporadic updates.)

Anyhow, a shout out to LULuckyTiger for being a wonderful beta.

Looking back to Orihime, Chad, and Ishida's sudden curio - it's pretty redundant. This is practically Gods vs. Titans, they won't make it past Death. I really can't stop laughing. I'm sure I'll find something reasonable for them to do...I'll have to check my outline for opening roles.

Now, since most of the Arcana are out in the open - in terms of location - I decided to give clues as to which Bleach characters will be filling the vacant roles. I'll provide three clues for three different characters and you figure it out from there. :)

Vacancies include: Fool, Magician (Yurie's death), Empress, Strength (since Arashi's revelation above), Justice, Temperance, Tower, Moon, and Sun.

Character Clue [**1**] Today (May 10) would be the birthday of one of the characters. The Arcana they belong to comes with a bit of a twist, so I won't reveal it. Unless you look at the bigger picture, I doubt anyone would guess it.

Character Clue [**2**] The Strength Arcana hasn't been vacant at all. The character filling the role is only a little indisposed.

Character Clue [**3**] The Original Magician is one of the youngest member of the group.

**Extra Clue**: All three characters have one thing in common.

- Have fun.

**The Prize**: If anyone gets all three characters correctly, I will post chapter 20 this upcoming Saturday (the 12th) instead of next Saturday (the 19th).

Thank you for reading! :) Many thanks to **reality deviant**, **ruler of dragons**, and **animelover56348** for the reviews.


	21. Demons of the Heart

**Chapter Twenty**,"Demons of the Heart"

"Where are we?"

Ichigo took in the overwhelming view. Clear blue skies, overabundant forests, stretches of wildflowers and the sounds of twittering birds surrounded him completely. As his feet guided him over the slight dirt path, his eyes found Haruka reaching a red armchair situated in the middle of nature tangled in vines and dotted with pale flowers. She jumped into her chair, pulling her legs under her body, and stared directly at him.

"My dimension," she piped. "This would be the equivalent to your inner world." She turned her attention to the cluster of trees. "My zanpakutō spirit still lingers here, but I don't quite remember her name."

"Your zanpakutō spirit?" he questioned, coming to a halt.

"I used to be a shinigami too." Haruka smiled at his confusion, finding it endearing. "I can still use my shikai and bankai, but I don't. I think it's unfair to her that she can be wielded with a severed bond, not knowing if I am its original owner. I leave her at peace because that is the best I can do for her. Of course, this world didn't quite look like this. At one point, I just remembered it collapsing and I couldn't find her. I was terrified. I thought I died…" She lowered her gaze minutely, questioning her words. "I think I did die."

Haruka fixed her eyes on him again, abandoning the broken thought. "So it must be odd to be without Zangetsu at your side."

"How do you—?" he started, looking to her quizzically.

"—Ageha's ability is to see." She clapped her hands together and he watched something appear between them. She held violet cards covered in runes and separated them so they faced him. Turned right side up, the depictions of each Arcana appeared. "I am the keeper of these cards, I can use them too. Forgive me for looking into your past; I thought it necessary to understand your abilities before attempting to give them back."

"You use them all?" Her apology barely reached his ears as his gaze fixed itself to the colorful deck in her hands.

"No, I imposed limitations. I can only be one card at a time and I can't switch at will," she explained. "I need forty-eight hours before I can become another."

"What can you do?"

Haruka smiled. "Nothing. I just explained my ability to you."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I peeked into your past to research and record your abilities, I thought it an even trade to tell you a bit about mine," she admitted. "I bind the Cycle, I command it. My ability allows me to be either Death or Priestess at will. I can be whoever I want."

Ichigo noticed something moving in the distance and turned his attention to a small figure skimping across the field of flowers, leaving behind a cloud of gold speckled dust and new blooms. "Is that…?"

Haruka had risen from her seat, eyes following the small girl until she vanished beyond the sea of trees. "Yes, that's her."

He wondered, if only for a second, if her zanpakutō fled because she was scared of her mistress.

She breathed audibly, breaking the sudden silence. "I think I should start by giving you the details," she started, appearing before him in a cloud of black smoke. "The first is simple, you need to trust me. If I say jump, you have to jump even if you think it's crazy or that you're going to be killed—just jump. That being said, you should follow all my orders."

"Easy enough," he said with a shrug, trying hard not to imagine the extremity of this procession after Nagata and Touma's warning. "Anything else?"

"Put out your hand."

"Why?"

"Do it." She held out hers. "Come on."

Ichigo dropped his hand over hers and watched her turn it. She dug into her pocket to produce a crystallized, blood red peony without a stem or leaves to support the flower, and placed it atop his palm.

"This is extra because I know you have a lot of questions," she said quietly. "My entire life is recorded there from the moment I was a child in Soul Society, to my training as a shinigami and rise into the ranks, to the creation of the Arcana curse and every life I lived after that. How it works: think about a moment and it'll take you there."

Ichigo stared down at the crystallized flower. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I don't know. I just think it's the right thing to do." Haruka left his side, wandering away with her eyes fixed to the sky. She stopped halfway to her seat. "Another thing, before I forget, you have to promise you won't take my side. Even if staying by my side is the right thing to do, you need to remember your promise and not take my side." She struggled with the urge to face him directly. "And that no matter how this war ends, you'll accept it. Nothing done differently can change the outcome. Being guilty or innocent won't matter in the end because everything will be set right."

Ichigo wanted to ask about the outcome and stared at the red flower in his hands. If he thought about it, would he get an answer? He wanted to try, but instead of doing so, he stuffed it into his sweater pocket. He already imagined it in his head—the ending—and it never quite ended well for the Arcana considering their track record. Haruka might be destined to die again. Some big event might force her into sacrificing her life for the sake of her Arcana. The idea unsettled him for various reasons, a few he understood came naturally and another set he felt were of a completely different nature.

"I can't guarantee it," he said quickly. "I'm not going to leave you behind."

Haruka laughed. "That's what I like about you Kuro—"

"It's Ichigo."

She turned, strands of golden hair obscuring the amazement in her expression. "Ichigo."

His stomach flipped in response as a slight blush settled in his cheeks.

"I should explain my actions to you then," she said, striding to him with a change in disposition. Her tone was crisp and serious, her eyes firm with determination. "I'm going to have to bring out the worst in you, to bring out the best."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your Hollow," she answered, cutting straight to the point. "That cluster of dark energy living inside of you is, thanks to _it_ and because of it, why I can have easier access."

Ichigo felt a newfound sense of dread. "What?"

"The part of you that you hate the most is the sole link to your powers," she explained. "I need to draw him out."

"Draw him out…?" he repeated slowly.

"Draw him out," she affirmed, "until he is present and standing before me as you are."

Flashbacks of his fight against Ulquiorra filled his mind. He recalled the voice calling to him and the sudden surge of malignant energy that took over him, leaving him shut away inside impenetrable darkness. He had conquered the Hollow somehow, but even so, his friends had been hurt in some way and now he was faced with the same predicament. Haruka could have just finished explaining everything by adding that she wanted to exchange numbers with his Hollow and get on with it.

Haruka raised her hand as he formed a protest. "Before you object understand that you won't be able to hurt me," she said quickly. "I brought you to my dimension for the spacious environment and lack of human life, but also because the only rule here is not to kill the queen. If you try—well, you shouldn't try, I don't recommend it."

Ichigo's eyebrows rose. "…Okay."

"I'm going to put up a barrier around you and reinforce it as your Hollow gains strength, understand?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Just sit and wait. You won't feel anything at first."

"And what about you?" he asked, curious.

Haruka clapped both hand together making the violet tarot cards disappear. "I'm going to keep you company."

Ichigo looked around the glittering blades of grass and mass of wildflowers inwardly asking himself if it was fine to sit down without warning. He shot an inquiring look at Haruka, stared a bit longer than he expected and was caught doing so. It irritated him how easily she made eye contact. He remembered her before she awakened to all her power, the awkward teenager that almost never looked him in the eyes before averting them. He convinced himself day in and out that she was the same girl, a bit talkative and excessive—spoiled as always—except she was healthy, at no risk of dying, and her manner of speaking changed, though her ideas hadn't. The similarities were present. Everything was still there and he couldn't help the pressure of his chest decreasing with every new discovery.

"Sit anywhere."

He blinked, nodded, and plopped down without a second thought.

Haruka took a seat directly in front of him, uttered a single word beneath her breath and watched as solid light shot up all around him. The light created a transparent square around him. It covered more ground behind him; he was merely sitting by the edge of a colossal box. He reached out to touch it, felt it cold and powerful in his hands, but felt nothing besides that.

"Particles of my energy are floating inside the barrier with you," Haruka explained. "You won't feel it until your body absorbs enough of them to wake your Hollow."

Together they waited in silence. He crossed his legs and tried to keep his mind from rushing when a thought occurred to him.

"You said humans can sense the Arcana better than anyone."

"Ordinary humans, yes," she answered. "The difference is the energy they're sensing. Our power is split into two mediums, the clash between our shinigami origins and the curse and black energy."

"Black energy?"

"It is the strongest energy in all worlds; consider it the original power before it branched off into red energy (Shinigami), white energy (Quincy), and gray energy (Hollow)." Haruka reached into her satchel and tugged out a heavy book. "A long, long time ago the Spirit King asked for my services." She started flipping through the book, scanning the pages absently. "There were a lot of rumors about me during that time. The Captain-Commander expected me to be promoted into the king's army, just like my older brothers, and everyone else suspected it was only a matter of time before it happened. They said I had a gift, but I only knew how to think."

Ichigo listened intently.

Haruka's eyes flickered to his. "I didn't quite get it at first, the reason why he asked me, specifically, for a favor. I was promoted to enter his dimension and was immediately versed in the functions of all energy. I think it was around that time that I started suspecting something was being asked of me without my knowledge, perhaps it's what he wanted. When the black energy was handed to me, I already knew what the king wanted. He only said it to ascertain his desires in creating a strong army, stronger than those in Soul Society, and far beyond the strength of his Zero Division."

"Why did he pick you?"

"Think about the members of the Arcana, consider them well and maybe then you might understand it." Haruka gestured to the pocket that held her crystallized peony. "Ask it about everyone and see them through my eyes."

Curiously, Ichigo reached into his pocket and drew the flower out, holding it flat against his palm. He shot her a look of complete uncertainty and she stared back firmly.

"Everyone had a trait dangerous to Soul Society," she said quietly. "We say we were chosen by the card, but the Spirit King placed the burdens on each of us." She noticed his expression, brooding and calculative; expecting more to understand better not knowing that doing so would only increase the burden. "I forgot to thank you for the sweater."

Ichigo blinked, a disappointed shadow streaked his features, as his eyes swept over the black hoodie she was wearing, a bit too baggy for her frame. "No problem."

"I actually needed it."

"What for?"

"I wanted it long before you claimed it."

Ichigo cracked a smile. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you deserved something nice since Nagata just buys dirty t-shirts and Touma dresses like a drugged up rockstar. I felt bad…and I also wanted the pink neon hoodie in case Arisawa-senpai had her eye on it." She leaned forward slightly. "Don't tell her."

"Tatsuki's glad you took the pink sweater, trust me."

Haruka giggled. "Good. I wouldn't want her mad at me."

That suddenly reminded him. "What is Tatsuki doing with Nagata anyway?"

"Nagata needs to come in contact with Strength. Arisawa-senpai is a diversion."

"Why can't you just talk to your brother?"

Her eyes hardened. "Not my brother."

"What?"

"Well, long story short my young twin brother just so happens to be Judgment, my older brother Yamato, he came after Enishi."

"Judgment?"

"I'll explain better later. Enishi needs to talk to the real Strength."

"You know who it is?"

"I know who everyone is. I even know who the next Magician is."

"Next Magician?" questioned Ichigo. "But didn't Nagata kill—"

"Enishi mistook Yurie as the Original Magician, who is actually a member of the Sixth Cycle. As irked as I was for Yurie's death, it worked for a better purpose. The Original Magician was female, contrary to all claims of masculinity."

"Female…do I—?"

"I met her, she's quite nice," she interjected quickly.

Ichigo bowed his head as he ran a hand over her his hair, knowing not to chase answers she wouldn't give. "What's up with Ichimaru and Grimmjow?"

"Oh? That," started Haruka. "I haven't quite figured it out, it's most likely a malfunction in the curse (it's a bit old), but I assume it's because they were already awakened into the Fifth Cycle before they died again. Instead of disappearing completely, they were nurtured off my reserve and reappeared in the Human World as children with all prior knowledge instilled."

"Sucks for them," he grumbled.

"They can turn back, not at will, but if we were at the peak of our strength, they would be able to go back to normal."

"Is there anyone else I know or _care _about?" He stressed it out a bit, wondering if she would understand his concern enough to give him answers and not riddles like Nagata.

"Two of our Fourth Cycle members are actually the Originals and you are acquainted, I believe," she answered. "I think if they were ever in peril you would try to help them, but I wouldn't label it as _care_, just a desire to be heroic."

"Heroic?"

"It's a good thing!" she said defensively. "I wish I could be heroic, but I only get on everyone's nerves."

"Hey! Don't think like that," he snapped. "You don't get on my nerves."

Haruka smiled weakly. "I understand they all react that way for a reason so I try not holding it against them."

"They're idiots!" he continued loudly, touching the glass. He wanted to grab her and shake her until she got it through her skull that they were all idiots for thinking she's annoying. He bet they were simply annoyed at either Nagata or Touma and took it out on Haruka because she presented herself as an easy victim. "You shouldn't care what they think about you either!"

She stared at him timidly, taken aback by his forcefulness. "…But I'm supposed to be the leader and I can't do it. They all think I'm stupid and easy to manipulate." True emotion registered in her eyes and he felt it, though fleeting, the shred of sorrow she kept hidden. "Everyone thinks Enishi has been making all the decisions for me, that I'm his puppet, but I'm not. We never agreed on anything growing up or through the years."

She paused fretfully, surprised to see he was listening to her, and continued softly. "We're too different beings. He can't manipulate me. Even if I explain this, nobody really understands because they just make decisions from what they've seen in memories."

"Nagata made you the leader, didn't he?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"That's worth something," he said strongly. "Someone like Nagata wouldn't give his freedom to a person he didn't trust."

"Enishi should have been the leader," she went on, urgently. "He deserved it. Everything would be different if he had and I wouldn't have to—"

"Have to what?"

Haruka breathed deeply, averting her eyes. She unconsciously built a wall between him and her emotions. "It hurts being at the center."

"It hurts?" he asked, confused.

The blue eyes sifting through blades of grass blinked until they misted. "We should concentrate on your Hollow," she said quickly, putting on a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"The same," replied Ichigo, not having sensed a thing, but he wouldn't be deterred from the subject. "What hurts?"

Haruka looked at him effervescently. "Can we go to the pool—?"

"Stop changing the subject—"

"Please," she said urgently. "Can you please take me?"

His emotions festered. "I'll take you, but you can't just stop there—"

The smile curving her lips faltered as she resigned to answer. "If I could turn off my emotions, I would, just to feel that state in which nothing matters, where I can't feel anything, where I am separate from the world and nothing could reach me. I would do it—detach myself completely, shut myself somewhere where no one could ever find me and never come back."

He searched her expression helplessly, for the slightest hint of a joke, but found nothing. It was hard to acknowledge someone felt that way—to cut themselves off from the world to avoid emotion. He questioned it reasonably because it wasn't in his capabilities to understand with mere mention.

"Why?"

"Carrying all the weight, being in the center is difficult. I am willing to do it so that nobody else has to, but the recklessness, the deaths, the internal wars, all the ache and the sadness, everything that every one of them feels, I just can't stand it." Her voice was broken, clear but littered with tiny rifts of sadness. "I just want to stop them from suffering because nobody deserved this. None of us asked for this life, this was forced on us."

The crystallized flower jerked into movement and glowed brightly as it started to spin over his open palm. He nearly dropped it in shock, but clapped a hand over to make sure it stayed in the center. His eyes found Haruka sitting behind the barrier she erected with her head bowed as if in shame.

"What's this doing?"

"You might have activated it," she whispered. "But the question you're asking it to show doesn't exist in the memories."

"Why not?" he asked quickly.

"If I deny everything I have just finished telling you, it doesn't exist."

"You omitted them?"

"No, I convinced my brain that it never felt it and so it never registered in my memory." Haruka got to her feet, his eyes followed her ready to question her reason for standing, and she staggered backward as she started stepping away. "Your Hollow is a lot stronger than I anticipated."

Ichigo felt something in his chest, a strange sensation without an ounce of pain. He patted over the fabric of his shirt, but found nothing different. Haruka continued teetering away, her knees buckled underneath her weight.

"Haruka!" he called, getting onto his knees. "What's wrong?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I don't think I was ready after—"

Without warning, she fell onto her side unconscious.

Ichigo bolted to his feet, knocking on the barrier hard. "Haruka!" He hit the invisible wall harder each time. "Hey! Haruka! What's wrong? Haruka!"

This time, he felt the same sensation a bit stronger rippling through his veins as though something foreign had slipped into his bloodstream. Ichigo patted his chest, _what the hell's going on?_ His eyes flashed to Haruka and his vision suddenly split. He blinked, straining to focus as his body grew heavier and strange.

His head went fuzzy. He fought against the strangeness and vertigo, forcing a fist to the barrier. As his knuckles tapped the powerful force behind the wall, the strength of his legs started to debilitate and the function of his lungs turned to revoke whatever air he inhaled. Ichigo hit the ground hard on his hands and knees, wheezing painfully.

He coughed violently. "**Haruka!**"

Ichigo's eyes widened.

_That—_

It wasn't his voice. He felt his heart jerk wildly as the trepidation sunk in.

"_**Haruka!**_"

As strange as the thought seemed in his mind, but it felt as though his soul was being ripped in two before the extremity of the pain rendered him unconscious.

* * *

It proved difficult to avoid fidgeting as Keigo stood in the middle of nowhere with Touma prowling the surrounding area in search of life beyond the barren wasteland. As far as he knew, the gaudy redhead had been asked to give him lessons in how to _Dodge_.

Tatsuki left with Nagata toward the nearest bus stop. No information was provided as to where they were headed, not even Tatsuki knew anything. He tried asking, but Nagata ended the questioning by asking him to mind his own business. Whenever Nagata asked something of anyone, it would be smart for anyone to follow it.

"Ready?"

Keigo returned to his senses and found Touma standing a few feet away. "For what?"

"To _Dodge_," replied Touma.

"Is that actually possible?" The idea intrigued him to the point in which he imagined how he could use it to move from the wasteland back to his bedroom away from these scary people and into complete safety. "Can I really go from place to place?"

"From continent to continent, best way to travel and it's free," said Touma with a smirk. "I lived in Sweden up until now and before that the States. We can travel from here to Rome in a blink of an eye. Our speed is one of the few advantages we have, but I'm not training you, that's Enishi's job."

Keigo's eyes bulged. "Nagata is training me?" he shouted. "Do I even need to be trained?"

"Nagi doesn't want any sitting ducks."

"Why can't she train me instead?"

"No!" snapped Touma, freaking out. "You want nothing to do with her in any form of training, she's a horrible instructor!"

"But she's supposed to be the nice one!"

"I'm the nice one; she's just as bad as Enishi!" He caught himself mid-sentence. "Scratch that, even Enishi is scared of her. She's worse than he is."

Keigo felt his fear of the Housen siblings reach new heights.

"Okay, we should start." Touma clapped his hands together and circled around him. "The basics: _dodging _requires little concentration when used freely, always have something to focus on, and never question anything mid-_dodge_. It really is as easy as blinking."

"So how do you do it?"

"You just do it," deadpanned Touma.

"But that doesn't tell me anything!" cried Keigo.

"…But I just told you everything," replied Touma. "Let me reiterate: you need little to no concentration, a focus, and no use for excessive thoughts."

"That doesn't tell me anything!" he repeated dramatically, waving his arms.

Touma rubbed the back of his head quizzically. "Well, I never did have to learn it. It came natural because I already knew how to shunpo and I guess it's the same function, 'cept the execution is different and _dodging _can make a big mess."

"So how do you shunpo?" he tried.

"…You just do."

Touma shrugged.

"Why aren't you any help?" blurted Keigo, deflated.

"I was never a great teacher," he admitted. "No patience for the profession and ignored most details. That and I spent so many years as a kid that I hate them now."

Keigo resigned to the idea that today was going to be an unproductive day with a great huff. He had hopes of journeying to safety, away from them.

Touma folded his arms over his chest and glanced in his direction. "We can go to a bar and pick up chicks."

Keigo's eyes bugged out of his sockets. "What?"

He gestured for him to follow. "Drinks are on me."

"Cool!"

* * *

"Where are we going?" asked Tatsuki, aloud.

It proved difficult to keep up with Nagata's stride, no matter how fast Tatsuki walked (or even if she jogged). The crowded sidewalk didn't help either, as she felt jostled the further in she went. Someone always knocked her out of the right direction and she had to once again, search over a sea of strangers for the back of Nagata's blond head. It helped that he towered over everyone. She came to appreciate that the closer they came to an emptier area.

"My place," he called back, throwing a fleeting look over his shoulder.

"I didn't think you have a house," admitted Tatsuki, breaking away from the crowd when she crossed into the next street.

Nagata scoffed, turning around to notice her lagging behind him and stomped toward her. He grabbed her firmly by the arm and rushed her ahead of him. "I'm not a fucking bum, you know! I live somewhere."

Tatsuki frowned, jerking her arm out of his grip. "Are you just dropping in on your parents?"

"My parents are dead," he answered, "'sides how old do you think I am? I taught at your high school for shit's sake. I was your teacher!"

"You don't look old enough," she said pointedly.

"I'm not," he admitted. "Twenty."

"What?"

"I'm twenty," he repeated forcefully.

"Oh."

Tatsuki continued after him, trying to recognize the area, but couldn't. They were in Japan, but not in an area she recognized. She wondered how far he had taken them by _dodging_, but they were somewhere near the sea. She could smell it in the air and it seemed chillier outside.

"Where is this?" she asked suddenly.

"Okinawa, I think, considering the dialect." Nagata shrugged. "Haven't thought of asking the locals. Haven't actually been here since I bought the place…"

"Are you from a well to do family like Wakatsuki?"

He whipped out a black credit card. "Nope, I've got one of these and it has all the money I've made since I was alive."

"…You mean twenty years?" she said awkwardly.

"Haven't you been listening?" snapped Nagata, shooting her a glare. "You've been hanging with us for weeks, what's wrong with you?"

"Not by choice!" she barked.

"You should be happy we didn't have to steal you from Nagisa's psycho twin! He practically traumatized that boy of yours."

"He's not mine!" she argued. "And you shouldn't have picked me up at all!"

"Nagisa would've killed me if I let another one of you die!"

"She's practically harmless!"

"She broke my arm and three ribs—how's that harmless?" he shot back, jerking around to face her while managing to walk backwards.

"You would've killed Touma if she hadn't done it."

"Are you honestly choosing sides?"

"I already did. And stop shouting at me, you're not my father."

Nagata bristled and turned back around. "Fuck you!"

Tatsuki rolled her eyes.

They continued down an empty street until he turned into a cluster of apartment complexes. He led them straight through a path splitting both ends and exited into a dirt path between the apartment buildings and a row of houses. He stopped in front of a plain white house and kicked open the back fence.

He turned to Tatsuki. "After you."

Tatsuki pushed past him with a huff.

She was surprised to see Nagata open the backdoor with a key, but wasn't surprised to acknowledge the lack of furniture.

"Stay here," he ordered, running up the staircase beside the backdoor.

Tatsuki wandered further past the hall and entered a larger room flooded with light from the windows. Beyond it was another hall and the doorway to a sparkling, unused kitchen. The sound of Nagata's boots thudding down the staircase reigned in her urge to explore. She caught him moving past her with a black backpack. He dropped it on the floor after pulling out a rolled up poster.

"Nagisa briefed everyone that needed to be talked to; my job is making contact with Strength."

"I thought you already knew Wakatsuki's brother."

"No, that lying twat is actually Yamato," remarked Nagata. "He's Judgment, an Original, and our other brother."

"You have another brother?"

"Why don't you listen to a thing I say?"

"Nobody listens to you," she scoffed, hearing him cluck his tongue. "So are you in disagreement or something?"

"Long story short, Yamato made a contract with our_ superior_ and betrayed us."

"That doesn't explain anything."

"Wakatsuki didn't kill Nagisa in the First Cycle, it was Yamato. We've only got a grudge on Hiko because he's killed us multiple times over since then." He shook his head. "Yamato is complete trash. Never trust a thing that comes outta his mouth. He's gonna try to recruit you sooner or later and might convince you if you don't have your memories."

Her eyebrows rose. "What difference would it make?"

"The mere sight of him will repulse you if you did."

Tatsuki shrugged it off and stared at the poster in his hand. "So where is the real Strength?"

"Soul Society."

"Aren't you supposed to be a shinigami to get in there?" she asked in disbelief.

"I technically am."

"…And?"

He stared at her oddly. "And what?"

"You usually have a follow up."

Nagata glared, unrolled the poster to a geographically correct rendition of Soul Society, of Seireitei surrounded by Rukongai. "We're going to break in."

"So why am I going?"

"Nagisa decided I needed someone to keep me on check."

Tatsuki stared at him long and hard before cracking a smile. "I'm your babysitter?"

"I'm only telling you the plan once, so listen up."

He was avoiding the question. Tatsuki laughed silently as he started explaining how they would manage breaking into Soul Society, dubbed as nearly impenetrable without raising anyone's suspicions. He called it the Dual Card Movement, but she called it crazy.

"That's never going to work," she decided. "You're going to get yourself killed."

Nagata smirked. "And that's where you come into the plan."

* * *

Ichigo slowly regained consciousness. Something feathery soft caressed his face as a soft murmuring reached his ears. He opened his eyes to a cast of dark shadows and a slight weight on his chest. In that same instant, he realized it was Haruka seated on his torso, bent over with her face close to his. He jerked upward quickly, headbutting her in the process.

Haruka yelped as she flopped over onto the grass with both hands covering her face. "That hurt!"

"Shit!" Ichigo got onto a seat and reached over for her shoulders. "I'm sorry. It's a reflex."

She shook her head, rubbing her forehead. "I was just healing the damages and extracting energy."

"What happened to you? You fainted!"

"I don't have enough power to support a transformation," she admitted, noticing the confusion register in his expression. "Sorry. The explanation is too complicated."

Ichigo peered into her face, noticing the large red mark on her forehead. "Is your…?" he started, pointing at her forehead curiously. "Is it—?"

"You have a hard head," she said with a laugh.

He settled into his seat. "Sorry."

Ichigo took in the surrounding area. They were in the same evergreen area and he caught sight of the fleeting zanpakutō spirit wandering from various patches of flowers. It took on the form of a pixie-like child with flowing white hair and skin of the same shade with a slight glow. Her silvery eyes caught him staring and she ran away, leaving a trail of gold dust in her wake.

"Don't glare at her," advised Haruka, "she's terrified of you already."

"Why?"

"I have been her only guest in many centuries."

"You haven't brought your brothers?"

"Why would I do that?" she remarked, insulted.

"Why not?"

"I won't make the same mistake Ageha made in inviting them into his world. Touma alone can keep calm, but with Enishi's horrid influence, it's a complete disaster. They quite literally turned everything upside down and hung the books from the ceiling. I don't need them to traumatize her."

Seeing how skittish the spirit was in his presence, he could only imagine her reaction to both Nagata and Touma.

"She has the coolest ears, but I still wish she were a zombie," sighed Haruka.

Ichigo half nodded before realizing what she said. "What?"

"Eat my brains," mumbled Haruka absently, then turned to him, reminded of a certain development. "I got to the final level."

"Congratulations," he replied awkwardly.

Haruka dug into the satchel at her side and pulled out her PSP. "I brought it with me in case something like this happened."

"Something like this?" he questioned.

"Power outage." She switched on her game and picked up where she had left off. The sound of inhuman groaning reached his ears mixed, in perfect sync, with the deep tone of creepy music. "Good thing I came prepared."

"We're stuck here?" he snapped.

"In Layman's terms, yes—nooo! I forgot to charge it!" cried Haruka waving her PSP around madly before the screen went black. "Ichigo!"

"Why are you shouting at me for?" he retorted in his confusion.

"Do something!"

"I can't!"

Haruka tossed it back into the satchel and jumped onto her feet. "I'm going to go toss myself into the pond."

Ichigo scrambled onto his feet, following after her. "Don't!"

He hadn't even realized the pond until she tried to jump into it. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the edge. Haruka struggled little as she was set aside.

"How long are we going to be here?"

Haruka stuffed her hands into her hoodie's pockets and her face lifted toward the sky. "I never thought about it."

"Why wouldn't you think about it?"

"'Cause I assumed I was strong enough to slip in and out without a hitch, but I was never the best at these sort of things."

"What sort of things?"

"…Intuition," she said with a nod.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, eyeing her strangely.

"I never suspected you may not be ready to regain your shinigami powers," she admitted. "I only assumed it would be simple with how long it's been since Aizen was imprisoned and the lackluster life you've been leading."

"Thanks for reminding me," he grumbled.

"I could try to transfer my powers to you similarly to how you got them in the first place, but there's a big chance I could skewer you to death rather than help you. That and my power could essentially become venom that may lead to a painful death."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"I am still essentially feeding you my energy, to strengthen your Hollow and all—different methods same results."

"Any other options."

"I could make you The Fool," she said quickly. "It's easier. With time, your shinigami powers will heal under the constant exposure to the Arcana energy, and you'll have the same ability as me. The problem is the memories."

"How long would we be talking?"

"For you, I'd give it an entire year considering the amount of strength you gave up. We don't have an entire year to spare and you wouldn't really be able to fight against us because I gave a permanent ban."

Ichigo and Haruka continued discussing methods, each grislier than the last and some impossible. Eventually, they grew tired of standing around doing nothing that they settled back into adjacent seats over the soft earth and switched the conversation. They talked about returning to Karakura Town and starting up at school again (though for one reason or the next, he knew he may not even go back to school at all if the Arcana planned to become a problem to Soul Society).

"What do you plan to do?" he asked when they reached the topic of his graduation.

"Since I'm not terminally ill and I can swim freely now, I'm not sure there's anything I want to do."

"College?"

"Have you seen my grades?" she asked, amazed. "I'm surprised I got into high school."

"You can't be that bad."

"I'm that bad," she deadpanned. "I think I'll just hire a non-shinigami maid and get married."

"And you need a maid for that?"

"I can't cook or work a machine."

"You had four previous lives and you never learned?"

"En-chan did all the work; he cooks, cleans, and does laundry—the perfect housewife," she admitted sourly. "The egomaniac made me lazy."

"You sure that's not just you?" he asked drearily.

Haruka glowered. "I can learn."

"Why haven't you?"

"'Cause everyone just takes care of me."

"You should stop relying on everyone and grow up."

"Hey, you can't judge me if you can't do any of those things either," she argued.

"I can!"

"Liar! I heard your sister takes care of everything at your house!" She twisted around with both hands wrist deep into his sweater's pockets. He frowned at her. "Don't make that face at me."

"I can take care of myself, you know," he said heatedly.

"Yet Touma has been cooking for you and En-chan has been washing your clothes," she accused. "I've only ever seen you pour milk! And it was once! Once!"

"Which is what they're doing for you!"

"But they're my brothers; they _have_ to take care of me."

"You're sixteen, carry your own weight," he rebuked.

"Only when you carry yours!" she snapped and shoved him, without warning, into the pond.

Ichigo didn't expect the pond to be deep until his entire body was submerged into the water. He jerked into a seat and sputtered, pushing his hands over his head. "Haruka!"

Haruka slapped both hands over her mouth as she roared in laughter at the sight of him drenched to the bone.

"Haruka!" he shouted, furious. "You're acting like a brat!"

"I am a brat!" She stuck her tongue out at him and ran out of sight.

Ichigo got to his feet, struggling to follow her. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" she called back, coming to a halt near the entrance of the thick forest. "You shouted at me!"

"You threw me in the fucking pond!"

"You went against the laws of nature when you asked me to carry my own weight! Nobody asks me to carry my own weight!" She slipped into the white frondescence before he had a chance to rebuke, leaving but not before glaring at him.

"Haruka!"

Ichigo stumbled over the foreign terrain as he bounded toward the stretch of white bark trees. He bent under the looming branches and felt the slick of perspiration leave tracks on his forearms. The thin dirt path was lit by the breaks of sunlight overhead. As he ventured forward, it felt as though he entered a different world.

"Haruka!" he called, regretting the moment he shouted at her.

Even if she deserved it, he felt he shouldn't have done it. He long before had fallen into her stride and like everyone else, it accounted for the shame and sudden urge to apologize. Nobody should ever shout at her. She had that effect on people. Without requesting it, without needing it, he wanted to protect her, to save her.

To save her.

Lost in a sea of white and entangled branches, Ichigo paused in the center of bulging roots and a sparkling dirt path dotted with bright violet flowers. The smell of seawater reached him shortly. He searched the surrounding area once again.

Could he save her?

"Haruka!" he called, hearing nothing apart from the rustling of leaves. "You said you knew how everything ended."

The crunch of fallen maples sounded behind him. He found Haruka emerging from a stretch of darkness, staring at him with childish anger. "You know people that are blessed with the ability to see into the future have it so they can help others, not pour over the details."

His brow creased in confusion.

"It means you shouldn't be trying to change what is supposed to happen, unless it's going in the wrong direction we seldom intervene." His expression didn't change. "It's a warning. A warning. If I tell you you're going to want to change everything and if you try to change everything, I'm going to have to hurt you and I'd rather not."

"You wouldn't," he tested, feeling his defenses rise.

"Take the warning and don't change the future, okay?"

He neither nodded nor shook his head. He gave her silence.

Haruka sighed, sliding into a seat between the roots of a thick tree. "Everything ends as it's supposed to."

"And how's that?"

"No Arcana. How it was supposed to be?"

"Where does that leave you?"

She smiled bitterly. "I wonder too."

* * *

**beta'd by**: LULuckyTiger

* * *

**x L i l i m**:

Congratulations to **ShatterTheHeavens** for guessing Karin as the Original Magician. But everyone's got **ruler of dragons** for guessing Shinji (though his Arcana wasn't guessed) and Karin, and also for identifying a completely different character and their Arcana without so much as a clue (that's why I'm posting this chapter early). Sadly, no one guessed the Strength Arcana correctly, but it's fine, their identity is slated for reveal next chapter.

The thing I love about the chapter is that I can finally start building up the romance after so many chapters full of foundation. It makes you think, "Holy shit, Ichigo and Haruka are going to happen," or maybe that's just me. The sad part of it all is that its starting to sound like a tragedy and in a way, it is.

Can't wait for Haruka to meet Hollow!Ichigo. I think some of you might enjoy the dynamics.

Now, for **Round Two**, which should be easier than last chapters.

Vacancies include: Fool, Empress, Strength, Justice, Temperance, Tower, Moon, and Sun.

Character Clue [**1**] The Tower Arcana has a birthday early August and has a memorable appearance.

Character Clue [**2**] The Sun Arcana has something in common with Haruka and Arashi.

Character Clue [**3**] The Moon Arcana shares something with the Tower.

Character Clue: Final Chance [**4**] The Strength Arcana was born sometime in May.

**Extra Clue**: Three out of four are currently in Soul Society.

- Have fun! :)

**The Prize**: Regrettably, I don't have a chapter ready yet, but I have two different prizes to choose from. Whoever gets all three correct (1 - 3) can ask me to add a scene within the story of their creation (it can be anything, but it might not show up immediately as I am following an outline, and you will be credited for the idea) or request a spoiler. If anyone manages to get all 4 correct, you can ask for both prizes or two of one (add two scenes, get two spoilers).

If you don't have ideas for a scene, you can simply request something you want to see.

And that's that, good luck.

I'm open to suggestions for the final prize next chapter!

Thank you for reading. :) Many thanks to **reality deviant**, **Nasha Rei-kun**, **Shatt****erTheHeavens**, and **ruler of dragons **for the reviews!


	22. Stories of Betrayal Pt 1

**Chapter Twenty One**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part One

No One's Messiah

Arashi relished the look on his father's face the moment he found out he was the Judgment Arcana. Wakatsuki Hiko was not much of a father the past sixteen years, but he put a roof over his head and spoiled him rotten, so he tried to be sympathetic. If Hiko had tried to be a little more involved, he might have noticed the transition process when it occurred. He experienced the same sort of downtime Haruka went through during her NPSLE relapses—throbbing headaches, cold sweats, nightmares in the form of memories from his first and only past life—but he bore them in silence…until his mother found out.

.

Sara, his human mother, took habitual trips down the long hallways of their ryokan home. She paid a short visit to each of her children, whispered her affections, kissed their temples, and bid goodnight. She spent her time loving both twins equally, though Haruka was sick and dying and he had already died once, drowned two weeks ago.

If he ever considered anyone precious, it was his human mother. So, it wasn't her fault. She deserved nothing but the best and as far as she was concerned, she had the perfect life—a husband that loved her, though he traveled far for too long, and two perfect children to brighten the rest of her days. He expected her to live her life until she died a natural death, but the second she crossed the threshold into his room as his body raked with pains. She panicked, grabbed a hold of his body, but as she made contact with his skin, her palms seared. She dropped him, jerking away, breathing hard, eyes wide, pulse racing.

Arashi stared at her frightened, looked to her bright red palms and glassy eyes. He panicked. She looked at him as if he was a foreign beast taking the place of her son and he couldn't stand it. He jumped out of bed and fled. Whispering his name urgently, Sara pursued him. The sound of her thumping steps stirred Haruka out of slumber, almost beckoning her to follow.

He ran as far as his legs could carry him, as long as his body remained painless, but when the next burst of energy rattled his insides, twisted him until he screamed mercy and cried. The croak of his mother's voice reached him, calling out to him. The thud of her lifeless body echoed in his ears, over and over again until it was the only sound in his head. He searched the darkness, surrounded by the trickle of a river, the rustling of grass and the smell of spring. He found her crumpled body at the foot of the tiny slope, eyes wide-open, heart lifeless. He trembled, chocking back sobs as the pain tingled in its wake. He slid down the slope and crouched down at her side, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her violently, calling out to her.

"Mom! Mom!" he pleaded. "Wake up!"

The crunch of new steps silenced him, the dread of greeting his father or grandmother overcame him, but he was met with the sight of Haruka. She stared blankly at the paling corpse of their mother. She met his eyes, he whimpered helplessly.

Then, he felt a shiver down his spine and another sharp throb in his head. It was happening again, another burst of energy. Haruka stood right in front of him, she was suffering, but that didn't mean she needed to die because of him. He screamed at her, "Get away!" but it was too late.

Pain jabbed at him in every direction, white hot pain shot through him, blinding him for seconds that felt like hours, and his lungs ached as he exhausted every last breath from them, throat raw from screaming.

Once the pain subsided, he opened his eyes, dreading the sight of his wide-eyed twin lying next to their mother.

"Are you okay?"

Arashi jerked around to face her, standing at his side, crouched down, unharmed.

.

Perhaps, Haruka had been aware of her place among the Arcana since then. Contemplating that particular memory absorbed most of his hours, but Hiko's vicious glare stabbing into the side of his face drew him into reality. They were in the midst of enjoying quite an awkward breakfast, though he, admittedly, was having the time of his life cutting up pieces of sausage. He smiled in occasion, gesturing to his plate to give him some idea of where else to point that glare.

"Honestly, I think we should remember what I did for you," replied Arashi fondly. "I found Nagisa's weakness and helped you exploit it. Of course, if you want her to kneel at your feet, there is only one you need to kill." He lifted his eyes from the plate. "It's not Enishi." Hiko's stony expression changed with the crease in his eyebrows and deeper frown. "I'm surprised you're a billion and have yet to notice that she has only been using Enishi, granted, he would gladly die for that—" He cleared his throat, "Well, let's not call her names. But he isn't the one you want."

"I trusted you once; you tried taking the crown from Nagisa to take command of the remaining Arcana," spat Hiko. "You planned to overthrow the king that placed you in your pedestal."

"I suffered enough!" snapped Arashi. "Nagisa kept me sleeping for three generations as punishment. That isn't good enough for you?"

"She should have had you killed."

Arashi laughed deprecatingly. "I wonder whose side you're on sometimes," he said. "Do you side with Nagisa, with me, or your stupid king? I do believe you have made the mistake of all three. Trusting me during the First Cycle, trusting Nagisa during the Fourth, pledging loyalty to your absent king. Want to know a secret?" He set aside his utensils, still grinning at the venomous expression on his father's face. "If you want to destroy the Arcana, you're going to have to kill Nagisa—"

"She has died many cycles before and it has yet to make a difference."

"Of course, you insult her intelligence by doubting she did not create loopholes to her own curse," replied Arashi. "I may want her dead, but I at least know what I am up against, you're pursuing her blindly in a dark maze and it's her voice guiding you. Except, you keep hitting walls, you continue making wrong turns, and it's impossible to escape. Do you see how much dominion she has over you? You helpless little rat, and you know nothing yet. You need me to tell you, what a sad little man you are."

"Do not insult me, Arashi," he said fiercely, eyes narrowed, hand dangerously close to the hilt of his zanpakutō.

Arashi rose to his feet, leaning over the table. "Then, learn to listen, _father_," he said sternly. "Killing Arcana permanently is tricky and you won't ever be able to do it without my help, understand? All I ask in return is Nagisa. You may have a sword to counter our abilities, but you don't have the power to erase Arcana from existence. That does not mean I can prevent the Arcana from rising again."

"Then what is it you plan to accomplish by allying yourself with me?"

"I quite like you," answered Arashi with a questionable smile. "And as I have no interest of stepping into Soul Society, I decided to ask for your aid. The Arcana shouldn't exist, I agree with our king on that, but that does not simply mean this one; it means the one he wishes to create as our replacements. No one should take our place after this is done because the Cycle will only continue recycling itself, Enishi and Nagisa will never die and they will continue gaining strength. Eventually, they will be so strong, Soul Society will fall, taking this world along with it."

Hiko's interest was finally piqued. "How do you suppose we accomplish a permanent solution?"

The amusement drained from his face, replaced by a dark grimace. "You destroy the object that put us here. And then, once Nagisa and her lackeys appear on the battlefield, prepared to fight, you aim to kill, but only after _it_ is destroyed. Understand?"

Hiko's eyes narrowed. "And you know where it is?"

Arashi nodded. "Of course, it has yet to be moved in the past thousand years."

"Are you aware of Nagisa's whereabouts?"

"She is with her brothers," answered Arashi simply. "They will let no one near her. If Touma fights, you will not make it anywhere near her. Nobody but Nagisa understands Touma's ability, all I know is that it is stronger than the rest." He sighed, folding his arms. "I do suppose it will be troublesome to weaken Nagisa, Touma being as enigmatic as he is, but don't worry, I will take care to _Erase _him."

"How?"

Arashi chuckled. "I just so happen to have a friend on the inside."

* * *

Ichigo spent the greater portion of his time within Haruka's dimension sitting in a patch of sunlight waiting for his clothes to dry. He discarded both sweater and shirt, laid them down among the flower patches where Haruka threaded in search of vibrant hued flowers: dark pinks, reds, violets, blues, and striking yellows. Her zanpakutō spirit flitted in and out of sight every few seconds, laying down rocks she picked from the sea beyond the trees. She toppled them, creating mountains and finished them off with a bright seashell.

"What are the others doing?" asked Ichigo suddenly.

"I suspect Touma has found reason to defy my orders and is currently engaging in unscrupulous behavior, tainting that poor friend of yours with the vile poison of a failure," sighed Haruka.

"Should you be talking that way about him?"

"No, but I already know he gave up on teaching Asano-san how to _Dodge_."

"How sure are you?"

"Touma was never a great teacher. Enishi is, Touma isn't. I always give teaching positions to Enishi. He raises better armies, forms better strategies. That is why they fear him the most."

"And you?"

She smiled awkwardly. "Nobody quite likes me. I'm sure Enishi and Touma warned you about me. I mean they did it over breakfast, right in front of me."

"I don't believe them," he affirmed.

"I don't think I'll ever meet your standards," she admitted. "I'm not as kind as the others paint me to be. I wouldn't have created this curse if I was."

His eyebrows rose. "So you can say it now?"

"I was threatened. Enishi was tired of suffering the consequences."

"What happened when you said it?"

"Aren't you curious about what Enishi and Arisawa-san are doing?" she asked, expertly changing the subject.

Ichigo frowned, but conceded to his own desire of an explanation. "What are they doing?"

"They're invading Soul Society."

"Oh."

Haruka stared at him, waiting on his belated reaction.

His attention returned to her. "Did you say they went to _invade _Soul Society?"

"I did."

Ichigo jumped onto his feet, he stomped over the flowerbeds, frightening her zanpakutō spirit out of sight. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Picking flowers—"

"Why would you send Tatsuki into Soul Society with a psycho like Nagata?" he snapped. "He'll have her killed and save only himself!"

Haruka lifted her eyes to the honest fury he expressed. The truth she had spoken, registered as betrayal in his mind. She endangered his friend by placing her in her brother's trust to carry out an impossible job.

"I understand your worry," she said soothingly, "but Arisawa-san is a member of my Arcana—"

"You promised she'd have a choice."

"She will have it once she becomes the Chariot, once Enishi trains her, and once it comes time to choose a side or freedom, she will have it," she said strongly. "Asking me to set her free only guarantees her death. Even if she isn't involved, if she stands in the sideline, they will come after her and slaughter her if they managed to kill me. Those that pursue us are unkind and unmerciful! They will not leave her just because she is a human girl!"

"You expect me sit here and wait until this all blows over and she is dead?" he almost shouted.

"I will be lucky if I don't lose my brother as well," she said quietly, gaze unwavering. "But I need the Strength Arcana, and I need him on my side. And if necessary, Arisawa-san's human life will end there."

"I trusted you to keep them all safe," he shouted. "You were supposed to keep everyone safe! You wouldn't do any of these things—invade Soul Society, kill Tatsuki without a care. You said everything will be fine, then do something about it!"

"Stop looking at me as if I'm some form of savior! I am no one's messiah!" she yelled, furious. After years of Enishi treating her as some form of savior cycle after cycle, everyone that followed her had so many expectations. Eventually the buildup would explode, and sadly, that day was today. Regrettably, it had to be Ichigo on the receiving end of her tirade. "I can't save anyone. I can't save anyone! I'm still human! Even if no one believes it, I am still human. If I can't save myself what makes you think I can save your friends!"

"You are stronger than anyone I have ever seen, why can't you use that for good?"

"There is no such thing as good and evil, there is only an in between where everyone does whatever the hell they want, disregarding what these worlds desire," she went on, eyes ablaze. "Grow up, Ichigo. This is war. I am not fighting for anyone, I am fighting to end this because you don't know what it feels to be an Arcana, to grow up with it, to die and wake up with these awful memories that torment you night after night." She paused for breath, watching his expression change. "Whatever they feel individually, I feel a thousand-fold." He was speechless and her eyes, glassy. "I did not choose this life! It was chosen for me! I'm nobody's savior and nobody's queen!"

She stormed toward to woods again, staggering over the rougher terrain in her dimension, and turned to face him. "And even if you beg me, I won't change my mind!" she shouted across the field. "They're doing the entire world a favor!"

"Now it's a favor?" he retorted, sardonic.

"Yeah, it's a favor," she continued. "And you better get along with this favor or I leave Nagata to return your powers and it will involve you dying, not to mention permanent!"

His eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Who did you send them for?"

"Aizen Sōsuke."

* * *

"I don't have any power." "This is a stupid idea." "You're going to get yourself killed." "What if they attack me?"

Nagata heard every variant from Tatsuki's mouth as they headed to the town's outskirts where he planned to open a Senkaimon. He explained that one needed a zanpakutō to accomplish it, but as far as she was concerned, he had nothing but a pocketful of lies. He didn't bother explaining his axe. She would see it soon enough. He kept himself busy by answering her questions.

"You will." "I know." "Probably." "Dodge."

Tatsuki frowned. "That's it? Just dodge?"

"You want more advice?" he asked, throwing a look over his shoulder. "Beware of pointy ends. Hard swings. Shikai. Bad terrain. Shinigami captain and lieutenants. Potential Arcana." He paused, facing her. "Forget the pointy ends, beware of all potential Arcana, there's a handful of them in Soul Society and they won't be happy to see me. Specifically the Fourth Cycle. As little time as I lasted, I made their lives miserable."

"I wouldn't know who's an Arcana, will I?" she said sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest.

"You're still human, you have that advantage. You'll know," he remarked. "Just look for reiatsu that resembles mine. You can sense reiatsu, right?"

"Not from you."

Nagata frowned. "You've felt Nagisa's; when she blasted me out of the building, yes?"

"Yeah. I think everyone did."

"Stay away from anyone like that," he said, walking into a stretch of tightly packed dirt off a slope aligned with birch trees. The scent of wildflowers stung his nostrils, mixed with the thick smell of rotten fruit. "If you want to stay alive that is."

She followed him down the slight incline, careful not to slip and fall. "This is a stupid plan."

"We went over this already," snapped Nagata. "It just sounds stupid."

"At least you admit it," she grumbled.

Nagata shrugged. "Well, when one of us ends up dead, it'll just be the stupid idea that got us killed."

Tatsuki hated listening to the word "_dead._" It unnerved her, made her palms sweat. She wiped them on her jeans repeatedly until they entered a clearing of green grass overlooking an empty beach.

"This'll do."

Nagata twisted his hand in front of him. A black hilt materialized in the swirl of black smoke and he tugged it out. Instead of a gargantuan axe appearing, he received a sleek long katana.

"Told you I had one," he goaded with a smirk, and then turned his attention to the zanpakutō in his hand. "Looks and feels real, not even opening a Senkaimon is a problem. Don't worry about the stupid Dangai, we won't go through it. In fact, we really don't need to go through the Senkaimon; we can just _dodge _in there."

"Why don't we do that? It's easier."

"It is," he admitted with a shrug. "But I'm supposed to teach you all forms of entry into enemy territory."

"They aren't my enemies," she remarked.

"When you get your memories back, you'll hate them more than I do—you'll hate everyone actually," he admitted. "You're not very nice to people. You can hold a hell of a grudge."

"How would you know?"

"When you become the Chariot, you'll understand that you're actually the Original Chariot."

She stared at him, puzzled. "Original means I'm like you."

"Yep, reincarnation of the First Cycle, not a new soul like the others were," he said. "Ageha said that the cycle which carries the recycled souls of the First would be our last chance to change fate. Do we want destruction? Or do we want life? Nagisa will make that decision; she swore she would even if she's sick of repeating the cycle and fighting wars she didn't agree with."

Tatsuki breathed deeply, understanding. "The end of a tragedy."

Nagata thrust the sword through the air, turning it like a key and beckoned the wide shoji screens to materialize before them. They opened as he gestured his sword to vanish and a bright light greeted them. He reached back, taking Tatsuki's wrist, and looked to her once, eyes firmed.

"We get one chance, you better stay alive."

"Yeah," she breathed, heart pounding in her ears. "You too."

One step through the threshold, the light forced him to squint and in a blink of an eye, they disappeared along with the gate. As the doors closed, the black smoke slithered through the panels eerily.

* * *

Touma coaxed Keigo into an elegant bar where there were beautiful women everywhere and he had his first sip of expensive wine. As the heat of the alcohol settled in his cheeks, Keigo turned to his redheaded companion with a wide smile. Touma promised to teach him the basics to guarantee him a date for the remainder of the day and for the past couple hours, he had managed to get a few important points across, smacking him upside the head whenever he said something stupid. But once silence spread between them and his focus went to the heavy smell of cigarettes, the click of glasses, the roll of ice cubes in a man's vodka on the rocks, and the high-pitched giggle of a booth full of women in shiny dresses, a question appeared in his mind's eye.

"What do you think the others are doing?" he asked tentatively, counting syllables to avoid slurring. He needed to practice or Haruka would have them punished for skipping training, or Touma had warned. "Wakatsuki and Ichigo. Nagata and Tatsuki. You know, don't you?"

Touma made a gesture to the bartender to refill his emptied drink. "Yep. If you want to know the bigger picture, I have no clue. Nagisa's decided to keep me out of the war."

"Why?"

"Terrified of what might happen if I get killed," he answered truthfully.

"What about the rest of us?" asked Keigo, voice high. "She's just planning to send us out there to get killed, isn't she?"

"Stupid," cursed Touma. "She's ten-times more attached to you lot. She's been sacrificing herself over and over again hoping that Soul Society will take mercy on the Arcana hosts, the innocents without power, but they have spat on her acts of peace." He thanked the bartender for passing him a new drink with a smile, took a sip of hard liquor and started on the freshest memory in his mind. "During the Second Cycle, Wakatsuki Hiko's second in command, Kosuda, lined all of them up in order. Nagisa was fast fading, but still alive. Kosuda knew it, figured he should torture her until she died. The remaining Arcana were powerless, reduced to human status, bound by shackles, forced to beg for mercy. And one by one, he decapitated them. Made her watch until she breathed her last breath."

Keigo swallowed hard, hands trembling as they cupped a tall glass. That was too frightening a thought to imagine. He faced forward when a dart of pain made him jerk. A memory appeared in his head, a large clearing where a bearded male stood with a thick sword, shining brightly in the sunlight. Kneeling before him, bound by shackles in a straight line were ten people, men and women, boys and girls, and a graying man with feeble knees. If he turned, he realized he saw the memory through the eyes of the Hanged Man's host at the time and in a pool of blood, crumpled on the ground with matted white hair and fading gold-flecked eyes was a girl.

He recognized her immediately, the same face as Haruka, younger with a weaker constitution and shorter hair. There were so many wounds on her body it was difficult to tell where some began and others ended. She feebly kept her eyes open and from his mouth, words escaped, soft.

"_Close your eyes, Nagisa._"

The bearded man took his place at the end of the line with a twisted smile, standing before a ten-year-old boy he knew was the Magician's host. He forced the boy's head down, announcing proudly, "Let's begin."

The blade made swift contact, blood splattered on the ground, shrieks resounded and the groveling began. A soft thud announced the death of the first Arcana. Kosuda twisted his fingers over the head, gripping onto blond hair, and barked out a laugh, his eyes skimmed over the rest but stopped before their dying queen. The pink tinged tears that rolled down her face made a hollow drip on the ground beneath her. He could hear every droplet, every shallow breath, and feel every twist of excruciating pain.

"Want a closer look?"

Kosuda threw the head in her direction. It hit her body, rolled onto the ground until the boy's blank face landed on its side, facing directly at him.

Immediately, Keigo jumped out of the stool, pushing past Touma as he rushed to the men's bathroom through the doorway beside the bar. He ran faster down the hall, hearing Touma calling out his name. He stumbled, feeling the waste gurgling up his esophagus. He burst through the door, entered the first stall, and emptied the contents of his stomach.

Touma stormed into the bathroom noisily. "Get the fuck out!" he shouted at some poor man washing his hands. He slammed the door hard and clicked the lock.

Keigo's throat ached, the taste of everything mixed together, leaving a disturbing aftertaste, but his mind went back to the memory he witnessed and he regurgitated again. Touma's shadow stretched over him to the tiled wall.

"What the hell happened? You spaced out and then—"

Keigo wiped his mouth, feeling tears in his eyes. He was breathing hard, his pulse racing. "I saw them," he said, panicked. "I saw it happen. He threw them at her—he—"

Again, he vomited into the bowl. He flushed it after finishing. The stench stung his eyes, tears dripped down from them, soaking into his sweatshirt. The panicked faces of all of them played back in his head, all in slow motion. He remembered each and every one of them.

The Magician had a knack for parlor tricks, practiced diligently after lessons. The Emperor and Empress were twins born into Spanish royalty; they always finished each other's sentences and held hands until the bitter end. The Sun was feeble, a Rukongai resident that provided the poorer districts with medicinal herbs to nurse all ailments, everyone loved him. The Moon was his granddaughter, a girl full of life that enjoyed exploring. She screamed the loudest when the end came. The Second Cycle's Hanged Man had a younger sister, both had been born into a lowly merchant family and he loved her dearly until Soul Society took precautions against potential Arcana and killed her when she had nothing to offer them. Fortune was a small girl, barely ten, who had been ordered outside the battlefield, hunted, and brought back for slaughter.

His recollections made it awful to stomach.

Touma stared at the ground. "I didn't mean to trigger the memory," he admitted. "You shouldn't have seen that."

"Where were you?" he asked suddenly, nauseated. "Why couldn't you help them?"

Touma leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "I wanted to. I swear I did. But I couldn't. At the end of the First Cycle, Nagisa turned me back into a child and thrust me into Ageha's arms; I was barely half your size. She ordered him to take care of me. She ordered me to stay with Ageha," he stated. "Ageha thought it was stupid to jump into the middle of it, since Nagisa was dying. We would be killed. I couldn't use my power and he only had basic shinigami training and a useless ability. There wouldn't be a stable foundation if we disappeared."

"What about Nagata? He should have been there."

Touma averted his eyes, face turned to its profile. "Kosuda went after Enishi first. It took three captains to act as support and an army of fifty shinigami, thirteen lieutenants, thirteen third seats, thirteen fourth seats, and eleven volunteers from the Onmitsukidō and the Kidōshū." He took in a breath. "His fury did him in. He easily destroyed twenty times that number the previous cycle, but he let his anger get the best of him for what was done to the Originals. Nagisa promised them peace; we tried giving it to them. They wanted us dead when we rejected their act of kindness."

Keigo took another breath, unable to get over the disgusting taste in his mouth. "They wanted you to be their last resort again."

He didn't know how he knew it, but he did.

"Yep." Touma reached into his pocket and tossed a packet of gun to him.

Keigo caught it sloppily and popped in three gums into his mouth, feeling the mint spread over his taste buds. "Thanks."

Touma grabbed him by the elbow and heaved him onto his feet. "Maybe I should help you with your memories instead," he said, brushing off his shoulders. "They aren't going to be any easier, but it's better to get it over with now than later. Hold on."

Keigo grabbed Touma's shoulder. "We're just going to leave like that?" he asked. "What about paying?"

"That's why I love to _dodge_."

"Wa—"

* * *

**Beta'd by**: LULuckyTiger

* * *

**xl**: The fact that this chapter is a belated-and I use this word loosely, like thirteen days loosely (outrageous coincidence that makes me think it was meant to be)- birthday gift for **ruler of dragons** totally looses it's initial credibility. I was still working on the damned thing when I found out, when this should have been completed ages ago, but you know me...I get lazy. And I also want to congratulate **ShatterTheHeavens **for guessing right on the Strength Arcana, I'm currently working on the prize which will double as an apology for not having a chapter ready for ruler of dragons (she draws so much for me, color me _ashamed_).

I suppose, since the prize I'm working on is huge...the final round is simply a freebee. Apart from the Sun Arcana being discovered by ruler of dragons during round one, none of the others were named. You'll find out soon enough who they are. Since this didn't happen in a review (pm), I'll keep it to myself. I'll be a total shock when you find out. Okay, now onto the final round! I'll make these terribly easy for you all.

Character Clue [**1**] The Temperance Arcana learned a few lessons from Yoruichi.

Character Clue [**2**] The Justice Arcana is known for having a terrible cough. ha.

See? Easy.

I feel I had a third character, but I don't know what happened there. I'm bad at math, terrible.

Oh! I have an idea for a prize for this round. If anyone gets it, I'll reveal what Arcana Shinji is. :)

The next update will be a bulk. I'll be completing the entire **Dual Card Movement** chapters, so that's 3 whole chapters for your viewing pleasure. Mostly because I love Aizen and I couldn't finish the chapter earlier, else I might have done a triple post today. I'm halfway through one, the next two should follow once I finish rewriting the outlines, so let's hope I can do this quickly.

Shout outs to **ruler of dragons**, **reality deviant**, **ShatterTheHeavens**, **akagami hime chan**, **Nasha Rei-Kun**, and **animelover56348** for the reviews!

Thank you for reading! :)

P.S. A preview to Ch21 is available at my livejournal, riotpunkdance, under the **status update** entry for June/July!


	23. Stories of Betrayal Pt 2

**On the last chapter**(**s**): Everyone split up. Haruka took Ichigo to her dimension to return his powers, but she had some mad mood swings after acknowledging she didn't have enough power to return his. But really, who am I kidding? She got angry for a completely different reason. Nagata took Tatsuki and they're going to Soul Society, but she really doesn't trust him and she probably shouldn't. The girl's got brains. Touma, on the other hand, with the intention of teaching Keigo to _dodge_, took him to the middle of nowhere and expected him to do him with some pretty awful instructions, but it didn't work. They ended up at the bar where a bad memory from the Second Cycle made Keigo sick and Touma decided that they should probably work on his memories, 'cause Arashi the asshole didn't help him. Arashi the asshole, on the other hand, allied himself with Hiko and Soul Society to end Nagisa. The end. Enjoy.

**WARNING**: This chapter and the eight that follow it take place at the same time. Look at it this way, the POV characters are all in one house but in different rooms. Ichigo and Haruka are making out in one room. Touma is cooking in the kitchen. Keigo is watching TV. Tatsuki is playing with the dog. Arashi and Hiko are having book club. And Nagata's in the shower. This is all happening at the same time. Just like the chapters will. You will (hopefully) be able to tell the order...somehow.

I really enjoyed that warning. It's the only time I can shamelessly have Ichigo and Haruka making out. I bet you got excited. :P

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two**,"Stories of Betrayal" – Part Two

The Red Peony

Ichigo stared at the red crystallized peony in his palm absently. Haruka shouted for the first time and, though the words struck him, he felt the entire brunt of her anger wasn't directed at him. He might have triggered it, but there was someone else that deserved each word. After Haruka stormed into the trees, he had questions; questions he couldn't ask her due to her mood and the awkwardness he wasn't ready to face. That was before he remembered the peony she gave him and reached into his pocket to retrieve it. Everything she experienced was stored inside; all he needed to do was ask about it.

He thought of the Arcana curse and the beginning. When it all started, how it started. He waited staring into its red petals, noticing them glinting ominously beneath the sunlight.

Suddenly, Ichigo felt a sudden drop in temperature as he stood, feet glued to the floor beneath him, and his mind started to cloud with darkness. He had an overpowering urge to drop down and catch his breath, though he wasn't sure he was breathing at all; all he felt was a rushing decline of his energy. A pull in the center of his stomach drew his vision to his blurring surroundings and the pained look on Haruka's expression as she stormed away, revealing Aizen as the Strength.

He felt excruciating pain centered in his forehead and watched a veil of darkness spread over his eyes as his body fell in a heap over the flowerbeds, understanding the lightness of his body signified the change of scenery.

.

Color bloomed before him as he reopened his eyes to warm tatami beneath him and high, darkened ceiling above him. The colors contrasted hard against the blandness of the rest of his surroundings. Everything was spotless, the sort of shiny, glistening white people avoided in fear of tarnishing its cleanness. He tentatively rose from the ground, limbs aching from the fall to the ground.

It smelled heavily of flowers. A cluster of lobed peonies sat, dead center, on a short table, violent red in color and glistening with fresh droplets of water. Clips of leaves surrounded the vase holding them upright.

Ichigo moved toward the doorway when a slip of paper caught his eye. The sheet, creased and ancient, had been discarded sloppily, quite possibly floated over the table's surface by coincidence.

He bent forward to read the neat scribble over the surface.

_Shima,_

_About not telling you, forgive me. It went beyond my control._

_You will be missed._

_Keep Touma out of trouble for me._

_Please visit him; he may grow anxious not having his family nearby._

_Nagisa_

_P.S. Hit him if you think he deserves it. You have my permission._

The sudden creak of the shoji screen hitting the end of the wall startled Ichigo. He lifted his eyes from the weathered paper to the pair of men entering the neat room. Both were of similar stature, the shortest was only off by a couple centimeters. The shorter male stepped in first, as white as a sheet with smoothed facial features and messy strawberry blond hair that stuck out in odd places. He had donned a formal kimono, printed with blue and black scenery. His eyes were a pale shade and kind as he wandered further into, what Ichigo realized, was a bedroom. It was Wakatsuki Arashi—Housen Yamato, older and kinder looking. He didn't need to double check to confirm.

The taller of the two, strode in haughtily, turning side to side. Ichigo's heart nearly gave out at the sight of Nagata Taishi—Housen Enishi, who looked the same as he remembered, but matured with a refined face. His hair was fiery red, the exact same shade as Touma's, long and rippling down his back, completely untamed. Slim in form, but a tad bulkier than he remembered and dressed in a moss-colored kimono with a pinstriped print. His cold, ice blue eyes fell on the blood red peonies and a sarcastic scoff filled the room.

"This is way suspicious," he grunted, arms crossed over his chest. Visible scars stretched along his forearms, but from all the others, his eyes went straight to the one stretching from his neck to beyond his collarbone and torso. "Sendin' us down here is pretty fucking strange, aint it?"

"How can you be so angry, En?" asked the kind-faced male. "There are dozens of people that want to meet you. I hear the new Kenpachi wants to challenge you to a fight."

Ichigo stood perfectly still. This was Soul Society.

"Enishi, Yamato, I've been looking for you—eh? Gross, who brought the flowers?"

Touma emerged from the verandah, casting a disgusted look at the pot of peonies. He looked older than the Touma he remembered—sharper cheekbones, cropped fiery hair, and a healthier build. He wore a kimono in dark brown without design.

"Shima-kun," answered Yamato kindly.

Touma made a face. "Where's Nagi?"

"Dunno. 'S why we're here, stupid."

"This is pretty nice, though," started Touma. "Being able to return to Seireitei on important business. I've gotten to meet up with a couple old friends."

"Why'd they choose us specifically?"

"I was wondering too," said Yamato wondrously. "Usually when a mission arises, we are sent in twos with our assigned partner. Given the fact that we were promoted during varying intervals, we never once had the opportunity to partner up."

"Maybe they wanna reinstate us, we all know the Gotei 13 went to shit without us," barked Touma, laughing.

"Us?" asked Yamato peculiarly.

"The shit hit the fan without me," stated Enishi, no questions asked, his glare forcing the youngest Housen brother to choke on his own raucous laughter.

Ichigo felt another presence stop in front of the doorway. A head shorter than Touma with features that resembled Yamato's youthfulness and a smooth white face, there stood a woman dressed in a crimson kimono that fell past her hips. Long, straggly, strawberry blond hair framed her face with overlapping layers and her pale eyes narrowed strangely.

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat, pulse racing and red faced. It was Haruka—older, dainty, and womanly. She was Housen Nagisa.

She looked from one brother to the next, suspicious. "…Why are you in my room?"

"Looking for—"

"Where the hell have you been?" interjected Enishi, glaring at her viciously.

"Don't talk to me like that," she said, calm but dangerously.

"So, Nagisa…d'ya get them flowers from Shima?" asked Touma, attempting to relieve the tension.

Nagisa laughed stupidly, on purpose, and haughtily strode toward the peonies. Ichigo instinctively moved away to not collide with her and watched her pick the vase up to eye-level. "Har har, beauties, ain't they?"

"He wants your happy marriage and prosperity [**1**]," commented Yamato. "Best of wishes to your future together."

Enishi cracked his knuckles menacingly. "I'll show him happy marriage and prosperity, sneaky little snake."

"It's quite all right," said Nagisa bluntly, returning the pot to the center of the table. "I rejected him a few minutes ago. He's probably still outside."

"I'm proud of you, Nagi."

Enishi took a step toward the doorway, Yamato and Touma gaping at him, when a man covered from head to toe dropped onto the verandah smoothly. He tugged off the scarf shielding his face and stared lazily at the Housen family. Ichigo recognized him too. It was Ageha with shorter dark hair and golden eyes.

"Ageha-san?" called Touma curiously.

"We can't socialize much; I just got this from Yamamoto." He drew a crumpled paper from the folds of his uniform. "Everyone in the list is supposed to head up to First Division's barracks for briefing, that's all four of you."

"Briefing on what?" asked Yamato, throwing a questionable look to the rest of his family. "Were we called to oversee this?"

Ageha fixed his eyes on Nagisa, expecting her to understand, and she nodded firmly. "The project Nagisa developed."

"I don't think it's stable," she said hesitantly, all eyes on her. "No, it's not stable. It's in an infant state; it needs to years to mature—a couple hundred if we want it to work properly. This shouldn't be in discussion."

"Orders from above," replied Ageha. "There's not much left for us to do."

"You're on it too," said Touma aloud, peering over Ageha's shoulder to see the paper. "So are Kuchiki and that Tsukihana guy from Eleventh Division."

"All of us?" asked Yamato.

"Enishi was specifically requested. He can't refuse the summons, we can, though," said Ageha, "but, I don't think we should."

"What's this all about?" demanded Enishi.

"They want to use us as test subjects for the project," replied Nagisa quaintly.

"You jus' said it's not working properly."

"The stronger the individual is, the higher the susceptibility," she continued, "but that's not the case with this. It's not ready for use, hasn't developed properly, forcing it on test—"

"And I can't refuse? Who the fuck do they think they are?"

"We need to go," said Nagisa quickly. "All of us. I can't let it be used."

Everyone filed out onto the verandah behind Ageha. Yamato took Nagisa's elbow and steered her aside. He leaned into her, his gaze shifted to the end of the hall where a meek-looking male with messy golden hair stood throwing furtive glances in their direction.

"I doubt whatever it is Soul Society wants, they would retract it on your request," he whispered hastily. "You don't have power over them. You created something beyond comprehension with black energy. Do you understand how dangerous that is?"

Nagisa's eyes flickered to him. "I spent half a century working on it; I know what it can do," she answered, "but no matter who ordered me to make it, if I say it's not ready for use, then it's not ready for use. The amount of power in that crystal can kill a normal person."

"Not Enishi."

Nagisa caught the golden-haired man staring at her, but returned her attention to her brother feeling horrified.

"Not Enishi," she repeated.

Touma called out to both at the end of the hall. "Why're you taking so long? Hurry up!"

Yamato dropped her arm and gestured her forward.

"Don't argue with them, you let Enishi do that," he advised warningly.

Nagisa smiled. "I always do."

"He's great with words—"

"Hurry up!" snapped Enishi, whirling around to face them. "And don't make that stupid face at me, Yamato! You too, Nagisa!"

Yamato and Nagisa looked at each other, noses wrinkled, and eyebrows raised. "What face?"

"That stupid face!"

Touma howled in laughter.

.

Ichigo returned to Haruka's colorful dimension and found the bright eyed, pixie-like zanpakutō spirit that roamed the forest standing in front of him. She blinked with a curious tilt of her head. His muscles ached, though he hadn't moved an inch. He moved back, away from the child, startled.

"Where's Haruka?" he asked dubiously.

The nameless spirit lifted her hand and pointed in the direction of the tallest white bark trees. He shifted in his seat, pressing his hands to the soft grass beneath him and made a move that implied he was about to stand. He regretted it quickly and sank back into his seat. He was too angry to have a decent conversation with Haruka. She kept too many disagreeable secrets from him, though she promised him honesty throughout his training. His aggravation doubled at the thought of Nagata taking Tatsuki to Soul Society to die and the fact that he remained rooted in Haruka's dimension without the power to go stop him. Helplessness continued weighing him down, dispersing the possibilities of reacquiring what he had lost after battling Aizen.

Even so, after learning how to work the crystal, he felt curious to know what happened in First Division once everyone was summoned. His desire to understand and his helplessness combined. He could do nothing but sit in Haruka's dimension until she recharged enough power to conjure an exit and hope Nagata experienced a change of heart, as unlikely as it was.

He breathed deeply.

.

He felt the temperature drop once more as he refocused his concentration on the thought. The sharp coldness prickled his skin with goose bumps and the world around him swirled until he reappeared in the familiar Soul Society scene, dead center in a long hallway that led into an aperture at a door. He could see the silhouettes of the people gathered inside as he approached it.

The first voice from the group to stand out was Nagisa's, soft in tenor and strong with emotion. "Because it isn't right!"

Ichigo reached the partly opened door and peered inside. Nagisa stood in front of her three brothers, though Enishi was a step closer than the rest, ready to attack if necessary. His overprotectiveness was almost overbearing. Looking beyond the Housen family, he recognized a few faces. Behind the dark-haired, younger version of Watanabe Kouyou and Ageha's ageless counterpart, stood a frowning, cross-armed Tatsuki in shinigami garb—the Original Chariot—and next to her was Keigo with a confident air and darker hair—the Original Hanged Man.

Realization finally struck. He understood perfectly well what the living Originals meant by the rebirth of the Arcana this cycle around. Everyone in the present was a mirror image of who they were in a previous life. While trying to get a better glance at the crowd of strangers behind the Housen, judging by the gap between everyone and the small group at the forefront, the rest were frightened of their presence.

His attention shifted to the man that stepped into Nagisa's personal bubble, reaching to his sword. He only half-blinked when Enishi had the same male flipped on his back with a great axe pressed into his neck.

"Stand down, Enishi!" ordered Yamamoto, looking surprisingly young.

Enishi lifted his eyes. "Oh, should I?"

The Original Chariot rolled her eyes. "Do you have to do this?" she asked, annoyed.

"Shut your trap, Honoka!" spat Enishi.

"Enishi," said Yamamoto testily.

"We no longer serve you," he said warningly. "If you put a sword to my throat, to my brothers, to my sister, we have the right to slit yours. I encourage you not to force us to exercise our rights. Tell your Onmitsukidō and Kidōshū to stay put."

"We serve the same King," reminded Yamamoto.

"We follow different orders," answered Yamato simply.

Nagisa's eyes dropped to the trembling Onmitsukidō pinned under Enishi's battle-axe.

Ichigo expected her to call Enishi off immediately and felt an unexpected drop in his stomach that brought a taste of disappointment to his tongue. He never realized what sort of expectations he had of her—or that he had any to begin with—until that moment. She didn't even spare him a pitying glance and it didn't feel unnatural.

"Aren't you taking it a bit too far?" asked Touma, frowning.

Enishi pulled back his weapon and as it swung over his head, it shrunk into its sealed form. He returned to Nagisa's side, wearing a proud smile, as the unknown man scampered onto his feet to the rest of the black-clad individuals.

Yamamoto stood in place, before his lieutenant and Second Division Captain. His face remained neutral, but his menacing aura said it all. Enishi overstepped his boundaries, as he quite possibly did whenever disagreements arouse.

"The new army will be made, as ordered by the King," restarted Yamamoto, fixing his gaze on Nagisa. "He has ordered you do everything in your power to awaken that crystal, ready or not. Everyone in the list provided are those chosen to partake in your work."

Nagisa's jaw clenched. She stared unblinkingly.

"You are given free reign of the underground floors." Yamamoto gestured to his lieutenant, who proffered a scroll bearing the King's Seal, and threw it in her direction. "Those are subsequent orders—"

Enishi caught it, clucking his tongue.

"—from the King to his Royal Guard," Yamamoto finished.

Enishi read it. "It says we _have _to be a part of this army and reiterates what the old man just finished saying."

"And if we refuse?" asked Yamato seriously.

"It will be considered treason and Nagisa will be executed," answered Enishi lowly, seething.

A dark silence fell upon the rest of the hall's inhabitants. Nagisa snatched the scroll from her brother's hand and took a firm step forward.

She tore it in half, surprising them all. "It will be done," she said resolutely, tearing it in fourths. "I will kill every name on that list in the name of our king. He will have his army."

She tossed the pieces to the ground and swept out of the room.

Ichigo jumped out of the way, heart pounding. The doors opened fully and she stormed out biting her bottom lip. She only looked forward. Touma and Yamato rushed after her.

"Nagisa!" shouted Touma.

The scene beyond the doorway fell into darkness. Whatever occurred inside was not a part of her memory, so he followed the three down the hallway and into a sharp turn. Yamato grabbed Nagisa by the arm, forced her to face him as he called out her name lowly. When she lifted her face to him, her eyes were watering and her lip, bleeding.

"Are you insane?" Yamato snapped. "You just threatened everyone in the room!"

"That _thing_ is not ready for use! I can create his stupid army in a couple dozen years when it awakens to all the energy conserved in it. If I use it now, if I try to use it on another, they will only die. I'd rather be killed than have to—"

"—Enough!" interrupted Yamato. "You think he won't order another to carry out his orders. Do you think we will subject ourselves to this with someone that will surely kill us all?"

Nagisa sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're so stupid!"

"It made you laugh," murmured Touma.

"Shut up, Touma!" said Nagisa and Yamato in unison.

Touma frowned. "I'm heading home first. You guys keep hugging it out."

The youngest Housen disappeared down the long hallway.

Nagisa snorted once he was out of earshot and drew back, fresh tears rolling down her face. "You'd rather I be the one to kill you than some stranger."

Yamato held her by the shoulders, smiling at her. "Yes," he admitted. "Yes, I do because you won't let any of us die. You're smarter than everyone, so even if the odds are against you, you're going to find a way that ensures our safety." He planted a kiss on her forehead and wiped her tears. "Don't give up."

"You see, that's why people think Touma is your love child."

Ichigo jerked around to see Enishi approaching them with a deep frown, confirming that whatever arguments they abandoned behind them merely escalated.

"But he's a redhead," replied Nagisa dubiously.

"That's all you have to say?" questioned Enishi. "Not even denying it? Sheesh, I get that you were born together, but that doesn't mean you gotta do everything together. Why don't you just give Shima a shot?"

Nagisa frowned. "You wanted him dead an hour ago."

Yamato shook his head and sighed. "I'll leave you both. I'm sure Enishi has plenty more to say."

"Yeah, this order is shit," answered Enishi, looking to Nagisa. "Please tell me you aren't planning to go through with this."

Yamato had only taken a step back when he chuckled. "Are you afraid of a little condensed energy, brother?"

"No, but you should be. I guarantee it might be too much to support with your fragile—"

"Enishi, stop—"

"No, let him finish!" yelled Yamato.

A wicked smirk appeared on Enishi's face as he finished, "—constitution."

Yamato launched his sword from its sheath so fast Ichigo's eyes could barely keep up. Enishi stayed in place. Nagisa muttered something beneath her breath. White, glittering chains sprung from beneath the floorboards, wrapped around her brothers' wrists, ankles, and necks and weighed them to the ground. The sword zipped past Enishi's head, stabbing into the building with enough force to create a small crater.

"This is underhanded!" shouted Enishi, face pressed hard against the floorboards.

"Don't interfere!" snapped Yamato. "He needs to learn his lesson! I may not have a body as strong and healthy as yours, but I have done things you wouldn't dream of doing!"

"Shut the fuck up already! We get it; you were promoted first, who the fuck cares!"

"This is ridiculous! You're brothers!" said Nagisa exasperated. "We've gone through worse and you're angry because he called you fragile and you're being a fool, starting wars because you can't win one against our king! Grow up, Enishi!"

Yamato laughed deprecatingly.

Nagisa glared at him. "You too, idiot!" she yelled, pushing past them.

"Are you leaving us here?" yelled Enishi.

It was easy to assume she was. She only walked.

.

When Ichigo returned to the grassy fields, he understood the memory was one of the many she claimed would be doctored. There had to be more to that meeting, but she didn't want him to know about it.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he realized Haruka's nameless zanpakutō sat next to him. "Shit! What are you doing here?"

She blinked up at him wondrously and shrugged, losing herself in the changing skylight.

"Do you talk?" he wondered.

She shook her head. She tapped at the side of her head indicating she communicated through her mind, though he barely grasped the gist of it. She pointed to the crystallized peony clutched in his hand.

Ichigo looked down. He recalled the previous memory he entered, the ending of it, at least. Yamamoto mentioned an underground floor, but then he remembered Honoka, the Original Chariot. His focus shifted from one subject to the next and it messed with his concentration as he sank into another memory with a great lurch.

.

Nagisa sat with her head on a short table, brooding silently. In front of her was a messily laid futon and beyond it, a pair of doors. Shouts penetrated the walls, loud, angry, familiar voices.

"You think I care?" stated Honoka.

"Hey! Fuck you!" shouted Enishi. "Fuck you and all your not caring!"

Honoka boomed with satirical hysterics. "Oh yeah, 'cause that solves everything!"

"Who invited you in anyways? Get out!"

"Don't kick me out! You didn't invite me in."

Nagisa left her seat and pushed open the shoji screens. Touma poked his head out from the bedroom at the end of the hall gesturing in the direction of the shouts. Yamato followed shortly from the room next door.

"Why is she here?" asked Yamato with a yawn.

Nagisa shrugged, leaving the room.

Ichigo followed her into the long hallway, towards the shouts. She gestured for the two to get to bed as she turned the corner into a larger room where Enishi and Honoka stood, shouting their heads off. Ichigo noticed she looked exactly like Tatsuki, the spitting image with short waves of auburn hair and gray eyes.

Her entrance silenced them instantly.

"Did you invite her in?" he shouted.

Nagisa lifted her hands defensively. "Don't you dare drag me into this," she said quickly. "And to settle the conflict, you invited her in. We have an early day tomorrow, so get to bed, Enishi." She shifted her attention to the Chariot. "Goodnight, Honoka-san."

Honoka shot a look at Enishi. "You're lucky you have a sister that fights all your battles."

"You little—"

Nagisa grabbed him by the arm and shoved him toward the doorway behind her. Ichigo sidestepped out of the way unconsciously. She shut the doors and smiled to Honoka sweetly.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Honoka nodded. "Sorry about the noise."

Once she was out the front entrance, Nagisa returned to the hallway, looking terribly disappointed at him.

"Have a civilized conversation with that woman for once," she said, "I'm tired of waking up to your shouting."

"We all are," said Yamato from his doorway.

"If you hate her so much stop inviting her in," called Touma.

"My thoughts exactly," remarked Nagisa. "Now get to bed."

"I didn't invite her in," argued Enishi.

"I heard you say, "Come in" when you answered the door. It was your doing," said Nagisa. "Stop blaming us."

"She came to talk to you, you know," he remarked, as if it justified anything.

"Goodnight."

"She doesn't want any part in your shitty experiments."

Nagisa was halfway into her room when she halted. "My what?"

"Well, she didn't exactly say _your_ shitty experiments," he said immediately. "She said _these._"

She faced him, looking completely peaceful.

Ichigo swore he saw Enishi flinch.

"Nagi, please get to bed," urged Yamato. "It doesn't matter what they all think. We didn't handpick them to be in anything. And they're idiots—"

"Don't call her an idiot," interjected Enishi.

"I'm not only speaking about Honoka, I'm saying in general—" Enishi was about to interrupt again, but Yamato rose his voice to finish, "If they don't trust Nagisa is smart enough to keep them all alive, then that's on them. They're fools. They've been using her Kidō spells for years; they have no reason to question her abilities."

"Hey! If they want to die, who am I to stop them?" said Nagisa suddenly, throwing her arms in defeat. "Just feel free! Drop dead!"

Enishi stepped closer to her. "Nagi—"

"Drop dead!"

She slammed the door behind her.

.

Ichigo blinked, feeling a bit dizzy.

The nameless zanpakutō stood in front of him, holding out her hand. He stared at it for a moment, unable to focus and grabbed hold of it, not expecting the strength behind her pull. She managed to get him on his feet.

He stumbled forward a bit, but quickly regained his balance. He watched her run toward the white bark trees, stopping at the entrance and waving her arm.

Ichigo followed the speckled dust trail, but stopped at the entrance. The zanpakutō wanted him to follow her into the cluster of trees to whatever was beyond them, quite possibly to Haruka. He remembered the peony clenched in his palm and let his mind wander. There were so many things left for him to discover within her memories about how the curse came about. So far, he learned close to nothing about it, only that it was dangerous to use and Nagisa refused. If she continued refusing the orders, she'd be considered a traitor and executed.

The image of her standing before the old man, surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces with her hands clenched until her knuckles blanched and her jaw clenched was imprinted in his memory. Looking at her, remembering it, he swore she would burst into tears, but not an inch of her quivered and not for a second did she hesitate. She stood firm and determined, listening to every word, to every sound, to every breath and beating heart—she took it all in. Everyone else's voices overlapped in the background, whispering curiously as Enishi finished reading the official statement from the king.

Mentions of an execution silenced the rising dissent, so when Nagisa tore the paper in four pieces the noise rang in harmony with the poison of her tone. He only felt his heart beating wildly in his ribcage when she stormed out, biting back emotion. She waited until she was out of sight and out of earshot to cry, to admit she felt more than refusal. Perhaps, she long before considered the inhumanity of it.

Ichigo knew that many died throughout the selection process, but was it before or after the curse was passed onto them.

A sudden dip in the temperature led him to believe he unconsciously tapped into another memory.

.

The beauty of Haruka's dimension fell apart to reconstruct a squared room, wide with gray walls and high with dark ceilings. The ground beneath his feet was stained with blotches of brownish red. A splash of water resonated behind him. He whirled around in time to see water rolling over the fresh blood on the ground. Ichigo recognized the messy haired blond setting down a bucket to pick up a broom from Haruka's first memory. He had been throwing glances at Yamato and Haruka when they were talking together.

The blond scrubbed the floors with the broom furiously, trying to clean the blood off.

Ichigo noticed the square area led into a hallway that connected to another room. The corridor was darkened with shadows while the connecting rooms were lit with oil lamps strung from the ceiling. He looked around once more. Usually Nagisa was in sight, but he couldn't spot her. A pair of footsteps disturbed his surfacing thoughts.

"Shima!"

The blond perked up at the sound of Yamato's voice. Ichigo glance over his shoulder to see Yamato appearing from the corner wearing a plain linen robe. His face was hollow and badly bruised, his hair was uneven, and whatever bit of skin his robe exposed was tightly woven in gauze stained with the blood of his injuries.

Yamato stopped in front of Shima, grabbing him roughly by the arms. The action frightened the younger male. "Where is Nagisa? I've asked everyone! I went everywhere, but nobody's told me anything! I need to find her! I need to tell her!"

His voice echoed in desperation and his eyes were glazed.

"Are you hallucinating again, Yamato-san?" asked Shima meekly.

"Are you stupid? I just—"

A swarm of shinigami appeared with their weapons drawn and surrounded them.

The older male at the forefront spoke out to him with a menacing voice. "Drop him, Housen."

Yamato found the source of the voice and fixed his attention on the rough looking man, eyes wide. "Do you have her? Do you have her somewhere? Did you take her from me? She was just there and then she was—"

"Yamato-san, calm down, I'm sure she's close by," said Shima soothingly.

"Just grab him, you idiots," a bald man commanded.

A pair of shinigami rushed to him, threatening him with the sharp ends of their zanpakutō. Ichigo imagined that if Arashi was ever faced with the end of a blade, he'd probably laugh in his assailant's face, but the fear—the absolute dread—registering in Yamato's expression sent chills down his spine. Yamato crumbled to his knees, shaking violently, remembering the horrible things that had been done to him and murmured pleadingly under his breath.

"No more, please," he whispered, torn. Completely broken. "I promise not to leave anymore. I won't ask about the others. Please. _Please_ just make it stop."

The two shinigami pinned him to the ground while another injected a dreamy-colored liquid into his neck with a syringe. He twitched in response, a low, painful groan escaped his lips before the drug took effect and he sank to the ground with empty eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that, Kosuda-san," said Shima lowly.

Ichigo understood quickly. He wasn't in Nagisa's memory. It was Shima. He remembered the name, but not who said it. Shima was the Fool Arcana, or would be. It made him wonder why the meek male was cleaning the blood off the ground while the others were probably in the same state as Yamato.

"Stay outta this, Takeba," grumbled Kosuda. "And finish cleaning this shit up! We have another round coming your way."

Shima inclined his head. "Yes sir."

Yamato's body was dragged away by the pair that reduced him to a pile on the ground and the rest of the shinigami followed in a line, returning their blades to their scabbards.

Loud, pleading screams sounded from far beyond the darkened hallway—blood curling and terrifying. Shima shuddered every time, telling one voice from another. He continued scrubbing the floors, pushing hard to make a noise loud enough to cut through the screaming, but none of it helped. Each one was louder than the last.

When things seemed to have quieted down, Shima jumped when a male cried out in pain. There were overlapping voices, all shouting explanations as a group of shinigami carried out a man with a blackened, charred face. They sped by, faster than he could catch a full glance at what had happened to the man.

"Wakatsuki!" called Shima.

Ichigo searched the crowd at the sound of that name and found him, Wakatsuki Hiko, centuries younger as a fresh faced preteen in shinigami garb and a permanent crease between his eyebrows. He appeared with the speeding group.

"What is it, Takeba?"

"What happened to Tokusai-san?" he asked meekly.

"What happens to everyone that is exposed to black energy," remarked Hiko knowingly. "Lots of the names on the list aren't compatible with the curse, so were losing more than we're sending to rehabilitation."

"Have you seen Nagisa?" The emotion in his tone was obvious, and Ichigo felt it irritate him. Shima clutched the broom tightly in his hands. "Is she okay?"

"She's in recovery. Hasn't woken up since the drop."

"What about Touma?"

"We'll probably lose that one," he answered gravely. "He hasn't had a proper response since. We got him marked down to lead the Temperance Army, but at this point, we've assigned it to the younger Kuchiki. He's doing better at it."

"Yamato is going through some trouble, isn't he?"

"He isn't responding to drugs and rehabilitation has been useless so far," explained Hiko. "We sent him straight to the torture rooms. He's not doing any better, but he's quite resilient. We assumed we'd lose him quickly. He's the weakest link."

The word cut deep. Shima reacted negatively to them, taking silent offense as his knuckles blanched. "And Enishi? He's alright, right?"

"If he doesn't kill one of us a day, he wouldn't be, but he's on his seventh in shikai training," answered Wakatsuki, bored. "Apparently, he's forgotten the name of his sword. He's got all of these people that tell him, but he just forgets it. None of them have gotten their swords back. 'S a bit strange since they still read as shinigami on all the radars."

"Oi! Wakatsuki, stop slacking off!" called a man beyond the hallway.

"See you, Takeba."

Wakatsuki disappeared beyond the hall.

"Yikes, that drop business sounds bad." Shima turned to face a new shinigami approaching him with a broom and a bucket. At the inquiring look, he said, "Kosuda sent me to help. I'm Akira."

"It stays true to its name," remarked Shima darkly. "I saw it happen."

"I don't get it, though," started Akira wondrously. "If you've got a whole dozen people that accepted the curse ordeal, why not let them rest and get to their powers later? It'd be better to discover them little by little. And what's with all the experiments, too?"

"They were orders from the top. Apparently the King wanted an army as soon as possible," he answered. "The experiments are supposed to make them stronger and faster. They have faster natural healing abilities, did you know? Everyone's working on making them faster, as well as give all the new ones higher thresholds for pain. So far, Enishi's the only one getting by without a hitch. He's at the forefront. Death's Army."

"And the pretty girl ain't?"

"Not after the drop," said Shima lowly. "It broke every bone in her body and they left her there for hours until she passed out. I think she's really trying to fight it because they want to get rid of her youngest brother."

Listening to the words leaving Hiko's mouth in that disinterested tone, in a way that signified broken bones and potential deaths meant nothing upset Ichigo greatly. It rekindled the anger he felt towards Haruka about the idea of Tatsuki's death and his friends' involvement with the Arcana, but it was different. The emotion snuck up on him.

He wanted to shout at them, both Shima and Hiko. Why would anyone in their right mind stand in the middle of the hallway while screams bounced off the walls begging for mercy? Why would this come up in casual conversation?

_Why won't they help them?_

Once another voice interrupted the sudden silence they shared, the image blurred before Ichigo's eyes. Turrets of shadows fell around him until the entire memory dissolved into a brightly lit room with two rows of cots sitting side by side. All of them were full of the groaning or unconscious shinigami partaking in the development of the Arcana curse. There were guards standing outside the room, hand ready to draw their zanpakutō in case anyone got violent. Inside, a number of Fourth Division shinigami inspected the wounded, not to treat their injuries, merely to observe the healing progress.

It smelled like a hospital room—antiseptic solution, cleanliness, illness, infected wounds, and dried-up blood.

Ichigo's head clouded as he searched the line of cots for any of the four Housen siblings. None of the wounded looked familiar as he crossed the room to the set of closed doors at the end of the wide room. There were soft voices emerging from inside when Touma teetered into view, sickly thin and pale, looking half his age.

"Do you need help, Touma-san?"

"No," he replied, pushing open the doors into a traditionally styled room unlike the gray walls of the rest of the facility. Everything was tatami floors, candlelit, wooden walls, and shoji screens. It smelled polished, of incense, and freshly diced fruit.

Touma entered, shooting a glance over his shoulder as he reached for the doors. Ichigo stepped in after him, before he pushed the entrance shut. There were four doors, two on each side, and a squared table in the center topped with fresh fruits, bandages and medicinal powder. Touma reached a door to his left sluggishly, using the walls for support. He carefully opened the shoji screen and entered a room with a thick futon and a square monitor, holding up a drip. Someone was waiting for him inside.

Once the door was shut, he turned his attention to a door on the right that opened noisily. Enishi stood at the doorway, looking in. "Come on, Yamato, I'll teach you to conjure your zanpakutō before that asshole Kosuda volunteers."

Compared to Touma, Enishi looked perfectly healthy, if not stronger.

Ichigo approached the door. Yamato was seated beside Nagisa's futon. The pale-haired woman was lying on her back with a broken arm and dark circles under her eyes. Yamato looked as healthy as Enishi, but she looked weaker than her brothers did. Life was fading quickly from her blank, bloodless face and she could only lay there helplessly without enough strength to protect everyone or stop the experiment.

"Check on Touma," Yamato said, "I heard him get in, make sure they stop giving him any more black energy. I'll catch up with you outside."

Enishi nodded, leaving to the room across the hall.

Yamato let his eyes fall on his sister's face. "You wanted to say something?"

"Nobody is set to survive this," she said meekly, straining to speak coherently. "The idea was to expose everyone to the condensed energy, but—"

"They've been injecting it into our bloodstream, I know," finished Yamato, exasperated.

She lifted her hand, pained. He caught it, whispering something too soft for Ichigo to hear.

Nagisa eyes watered unexpectedly. "If they torture us…day in and out until we are perfect, we don't have to stand for what comes after," she said tearfully. "None of us are set to survive, but if we do. If even five or six manage." She clenched onto his hand tightly, her knuckles blanched. "You have to be one of them."

Yamato swallowed hard. "Why?"

"I ch-chose armies for you three. I paired you three to attributes that will compliment your strengths and erase your weaknesses," she whispered, pausing to cough violently. "There is a reason why you're the only Judgment."

His eyes narrowed in bewilderment, lips pursed into a thin line.

"If anyone survives…" she started once more, "If anyone makes it to the surface, you _erase _them."

"Erase?"

"Kill them," she said firmly, her grip causing him pain. "You destroy them before Soul Society does. Even if we survive, too. There has to be no one left. Do you understand?"

Yamato tugged his hand away, jerking it out of her iron grip and stumbled onto his feet. "This is—"

With tears running down her face, she whispered, "Promise me."

He left quickly, eyes wide, heart pounding, and empty. Behind him, the quiet sobs of his sister rang softly, only to be smothered by a pillow she held to her face. He didn't stop walking. He kept going until he disappeared beyond a crowd of shinigami.

.

There it was.

The implication of Nagisa's involvement in what the rest of the Housen considered Yamato's act of betrayal. Ichigo never suspected to come across something so questionable. Nagisa pleaded with Yamato, said that she made him a part of the Judgment Army for the sole purpose of killing the Arcana before Soul Society tried to do it themselves.

Ichigo was once more standing in front of the trees, unable to move forward or step back. There were supposed to be complete armies at the Arcana's disposal. Anyone with a title was supposed to have men to support them and out of everyone tested in the underground floor, only twenty-one emerged.

They didn't rebel for the sake of rebelling. They did it because they couldn't serve the king that subjected hundreds of shinigami to an experiment that wasn't a part of the deal he made with Nagisa. In some form or another, every name on that list was betrayed.

He needed answers. He needed to hear them from Haruka's mouth. He wanted Haruka to tell him everything.

* * *

[**1**] Peonies, in the language of flowers, can stand as a symbol for negativity, but usually represents a happy life, happy marriage, prosperity and honor. According to Wikipedia, in Japan they stand for masculinity and bravery.

The Housen brothers are making a complete mockery of a young man's choice of flowers. They in really bad taste, though Shima had no intention as peonies are one of Nagisa's favorite flowers if not her favorite.

* * *

**xl**: Firstly, I have to give the biggest shout out to my beta **LULuckyTiger** because I kept sending her 15k chapters to examine and she did a splendid job.

Moving along, I promised three chapters for this update for the spot on guesses for my guessing game, but I'm settling for two. This is the first. The second update is tomorrow, **September 21**. They're lengthy chapters, 7000 word each, so you get 14000 words of Arcana goodness. And from here onward, I can provide you with consistent updates because even though I took the liberty of a vacation, I wrote 41000 words for this story. ONLY this story. I needed to get all this chaos out of my head and now that I'm done, I have never felt so free.

I couldn't wait until Saturday/Sunday to post due to over excitement.

Thank you for the favorites/alerts in my absence, but all my cyber cookies go to these guys: **reality deviant**, **Nasha Rei-Kun** and **ruler of dragons** for reviewing, I have a very special place in my heart for you.

Preview for: **Chapter 23**: Stories of Betrayal 3 is available at my lj. Go again, I changed the previews.

I'm going to bed now! See you tomorrow!

**P.S.** I did change the title of the mini series due to the increment of chapters. It gives me good feelings. :)


	24. Stories of Betrayal Pt 3

**Chapter Twenty Three**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Three

Preemptive Strike

Nagata and Tatsuki landed in the streets of an under populated district of Rukongai. He took in his surroundings with the slightest hint of nostalgia. He alongside Nagisa, Yamato and Touma wandered through the districts with a familial bond so strong others tried but failed to destroy, all without the corruption of the Arcana curse. Yamato was his confidant, always besides him during troubling times, and Nagisa grew brighter each day, more aware of their potential, as Touma grew noisier and festive, he made the most boring lectures a riot. He almost wondered how everything came apart.

"You grew up here?" asked Tatsuki.

He snapped out of it. "Yeah," he shot back lazily. "A billion years ago."

He said a billion because that made sense. Yamato was once his best friend and now his greatest adversary. Nagisa enjoyed life to the fullest, almost too recklessly sometimes, now she clung to its remains believing everything could be fixed with perseverance. Touma brought in the happiness and today, he couldn't find his place among the strong.

Everything changed the second Nagisa placed the deck of tarot in front of him, explaining she wanted to model the new powers on the Major Arcana. It was the first time she told him that he would be "Death" and he laughed in her face.

Tatsuki smiled in amusement. "So do you remember everything?"

"Basically," he remarked, trudging to the end of the street, observant of signs of life. "You interested in my life story?"

"…Somewhat," she admitted. "You don't talk about yourself much, and yet, you brought me here and ask me to trust you with my life? I think I deserve to know at least a little."

Nagata sighed. "I used to be a captain here. Eleventh Division. The oldest out of four," he conceded, throwing a look over his shoulder to see her attentive and surprised. "I've been fighting my entire life, protected my family for almost as long, and supported all of their endeavors without question. That about sums it up."

Tatsuki waited, but he said nothing more. "What about the rest?"

"You already know the rest."

She frowned. "No I don't."

"Then, you will."

"After I die?" she asked, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

"Basically."

Tatsuki ignored the nagging suspicion that something terribly wrong awaited her and she only hoped it wasn't death. Dying again, it terrified her. The first time, she barely saw it coming—it was swift—she was gone before she realized it and then, she was trapped.

She caught another glance from him. Whatever suspicion she had, it was brewing in his eyes.

"Oh." Nagata halted dead center and twisted around to face her. "And to settle your doubts, it'd be smarter not to trust me, and I know you aren't stupid."

She opened her mouth to retort when a loud blaring sound echoed over their heads.

Nagata looked above his head. "Ah, looks like they know we're here."

"What?" she snapped.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed. "Yup, they just dispatched three divisions."

"Shouldn't we run?" she asked, panicked. The terrible feeling seemed well placed. "Why are you just standing there with your stupid hands in your pockets?"

He looked at her, as if disappointed. "I don't want to be rude. We have to at least say hi."

"_Hi_? You want to say _hi _to the people that want you dead?" she said, exasperated.

"You mean _us_," he corrected.

"I'm not one of you!"

"Not yet."

The alarm grew louder, booming in her skull. And suddenly, she felt the weight of spiritual pressure coming closer. In a mere second, she expected them to be right in front of them.

"Stay put, Arisawa, they're here."

Tatsuki's insides frenzied. "I'm not in the Arcana!"

"Watch yourself, they don't make that distinction."

Nagata admired Soul Society's uptake, trusting it had everything to do with Hiko. The man worked in mysterious ways, never to be questioned or challenged, let alone taken advantage of unless you were eager for consequences. He figured Urahara played a key role, being the only one smart enough to create a handheld device capable of reading black energy. He wondered how many humans he sacrificed to accomplish such a feat, but pulled away from those thoughts as he and Tatsuki were surrounded by at least a hundred, black-clad shinigami prepared to attack them if they even breathed.

He breathed anyway. Nobody could take away his rights. They weren't kings or queens; they were metaphorical peasants armed with pitchforks and torches defending a nation in dire need of a better monarchy. But who was he to burst their bubble?

Nagata cast a wayward glance at his partner. Tatsuki stared at the group like a schizophrenic off her meds. He felt his eyes roll in the purest form of disappointment as he shook his head.

_You tell a person to relax and they freak out first chance they get_, he complained inwardly. _Amateurs._

The crowds split simultaneously, granting their captains and lieutenants front line seats to the show. Nagata waited in mild amusement, sensing all six energies, nearly shedding tears at the Gotei 13's sheer stupidity sending the gold mine straight to the vulture. _This should be easier than I thought._

He recognized two out of three captains.

Muguruma Kensei, of Ninth Division, with his stocky build and silver hair accompanied by a scrawny dark-haired youth with a sixty-nine tattooed to his face, stood in front of the rooftop crew, which he assumed comprised of most his division with hidden numbers in case of an assault.

Ukitake Jūshirō, of the Thirteenth Division, emerged from the crowd before him with his shock of white hair and weathered, sickly appearance standing beside that boy everyone claimed was a girl—"What's your name again, boy?"

It bristled.

"Oh, never mind," conceded Nagata, rubbing a line between his eyebrows. "You're Ichigo's friend, that Kuchiki Rukia girl. Sorry about the boy comment, oh, and nice haircut—"

Tatsuki punched his side roughly. "What the hell is your problem?" she whispered harshly, voice threading lightly over the sea of panic.

"For fucks sake, I'm in the middle of something!" he snapped, like a Venus flytrap in sight of dinner.

Nagata's attention was drawn to the cutting glare of the third captain blocking the exit, a dark-haired highborn bastard whom he suspected had a stick up his ass given the look of disgust he threw their way. He recognized that look. He dealt with it on various occasions until he won the evil bastard over with quick wit and thorough plotting, something he knew wouldn't work on this fellow unless he had a couple centuries to work with.

"You're a Kuchiki," he announced, smiling sardonically. "Kouyou hated me too; I'm a hard man to love."

"Get on with it," snapped Muguruma impatiently.

Nagata rolled his eyes, unimpressed. He assumed this Kuchiki led Sixth Division as it passed down along with the fortune and bad attitude. He was accompanied by a redhead with a suspicious glint in his eyes, staring a little too hard at his companion.

"And Abarai Renji, another of Kurosaki's friends," he finished, noticing the look on everyone's faces darken. He liked the welcoming crew; it was almost a shame they had to die.

"Enishi-san, you should reconsider your approach," started Ukitake, taking the first step into an argument they shared before.

"I'm surprised you haven't reconsidered yours," remarked Death, staring at him squarely. "You may have been spared the pleasantries, but you were just a big a part of the party as the rest of us. Do you feel a need to stand among them because the old bastard helped you?" His words dripped with poison and drew an emotion into Ukitake's eyes that looked suspiciously like guilt. "But I'm curious, how have you enjoyed our curse?"

"You only needed to agree," argued Ukitake. "The Captain-Commander would have spared you too."

Nagata scoffed. "For the cost of my sister. What kinda asshole do you take me for?"

"Nagisa surrendered her life to the cause, it's what she wanted."

"Well, apparently Nagisa wanted a lot of things," he replied tonelessly. "Let's see, she wanted an army of Major Arcana, infallible beings with a great sense of _justice_, to clean the slate when necessary, to stand in neutrality of good and evil and function outside the control of a King, who quite frankly doesn't give a shit." He lifted a finger with each statement, casting a gloomy veil over the white-haired captain's expression and commanding the full attention of the rest. "In her spare time, while she was hording a secret lover and thinking of unicorns that shit rainbows, she jotted down a list of candidates for this supposed experiment which included big house names like Housen, Kuchiki, Shihōin, Ukitake, and let's not forget our dear old friend Kyoraku, who got out by sheer luck. Then, she proceeded to round us all up like animals and subject us to—"

"Nagisa was innocent!" interjected Ukitake. "She was innocent. She never created the curse for gain, she did it on the Spirit King's orders and she never meant for it to be used outside the dictated frame of time, it was out of her control."

"I can keep going, Jūshirō, but I stopped getting a kick out of your guilt a long time ago," he said nastily. "And I can't end your misery because well I kinda like that you're the Arcana black sheep and nobody's ever gonna really like you." He took in the horrified look on everyone's expression. Even his soldiers took a step away from him. "Well, not anymore, guess Yamamoto really wanted to take this to the grave with him, eh? Let's enlighten them."

Nagata smiled broadly, clapping his hands together, as he stalked toward Ukitake leaving Tatsuki behind. "That's right everyone, this fella here's an Arcana, Justice to be precise, from the original batch. He's got some sick capabilities and he's really only dying because well, that's what happens to assholes."

Now, he just felt like a school bully, not that it felt wrong. It was great. He relished the happiness, drowned in it.

As he took the last step forward, Muguruma appeared with his shikai drawn up to his neck. "You're complete shit, Enishi."

"You remember me?" he asked in awe. "I thought I did in your memory functions."

He thrust the blade closer to his windpipe, prepared to sink it into his flesh if necessary. "Bastard!"

"All for a good cause," answered Death. "I never thought you would be so hard to kill, put up one hell of a fight. Shame I was half your size, eh? I woulda given you a good run for your money."

"Shut up!" roared Muguruma.

His ears nearly gave out. He certainly did not miss this guy, that's for sure, but he did like pressing his buttons. "I bet you already feel the tingling, don't you? You can sense the other Arcana already; you know who they are, eh? That's the thing about death, it brings you closer to your humanity, brings you closer to your birthright too, as the Moon Arcana."

The blade cut a thin line into his flesh—a threat. Nagata chuckled darkly. "This was supposed to be over!" seethed Muguruma, furrowing his eyebrows. "The Fourth Cycle ended centuries ago! It's supposed to be over!"

Nagata grinned. "You're right, it is over," he replied in a soft, dark tenor. "But the Final Cycle just began. So, tell me, how many Arcana do you sense in Soul Society? I can name them for you, just put a face to the card and maybe you could be the bearer of bad news," continued Death playfully. "I'll give you a couple freebees. Chariot, she's standing right behind me, cowering in fear not knowing she's a real powerhouse. Temperance, tricky ability that one has, he can turn you into a dud with a snap of his fingers. Justice, right behind you, he plays fair but nobody really likes the cost of the ability. And the Tower, he's in my league so he can really fuck you over in a fight. Then there's you, the Moon Arcana, impenetrable fortress you are, you only get stronger as the day ends."

Muguruma's anger boiled over and he thrust the blade into his neck with every intention of slicing off his head clean off his shoulders. Nagata took the split second interval to dodge, disappearing in swirls of smoke, and reappeared above him, upside down.

"Tell your upside down friend that he's in my list of casualties!"

By the time everyone thought of looking up, he had vanished once more, abandoning Tatsuki for the sake of extending time. The last he heard of her was her sharp scream into the seven winds, "I knew it, you asshole!"

_See, not a dumb bone in that girl._

* * *

Tatsuki was seething, hands fisted at her sides when Kuchiki Rukia bounded towards her. Not having listened to preceding conversation, Rukia's words sounded puzzling. "She's a hostage."

She imagined playing the part of one sounded a lot better than imprisonment or death in a foreign plane. She looked to the bob-haired girl for the sake of safety, knowing all too well that Nagata abandoned her with no intention of returning.

"Apprehend her, she's the Chariot," grumbled Muguruma, radiating fury. "That bastard Death is right."

"I assume he was correct about your and Ukitake's situations as well," started Kuchiki, nose in the air. He was as snobby as Tatsuki imagined after Ichigo ranted about him. They managed to recollect his adventures in Soul Society while they were bored in the Kazumasa's apartment. It was during the time he avoided Haruka as a way to get his mind off her.

Muguruma ignored the question altogether, jumped onto the rooftop with his lieutenant and gestured him along. "I'm tracking him down," he announced, and turned to one of his officers. "Inform, the Captain-Commander that Housen Enishi came alone in the company of the unawakened Chariot Arcana, afterward, relay the information to Captain Hirako, of Fifth Division. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

The shinigami sprinted out of sight. Ninth Division followed shortly after, leaving the ancient rooftops emptied.

"We are under a special contract that prevents our usage of the Arcana abilities," Ukitake explained to Kuchiki, approaching Tatsuki. He looked at her glumly. "I'm sorry, but you will have to be apprehended, Honoka-san."

Tatsuki raised an eyebrow.

He caught his mistake. "Forgive me," he said quietly. "Kuchiki-san, please take her to a cell, have her surrounded by officers around the clock. Stay on standby, there is no need for you to partake in this mess." He lifted his eyes to Captain Kuchiki and his lieutenant. "We should head to First Division for further instruction."

Rukia looked to her apathetically as she grabbed her by the hands. "Sorry, Arisawa-san."

Tatsuki was taken away by Rukia in the blink of an eye. Her wrists were tied together by glowing ropes powered by the lieutenant's spiritual energy that made Tatsuki's head feel fuzzy. They traveled quickly through rooftops and semi-occupied streets until they reached a partly opened gate surrounded by high white walls and a large amount of concentrated energy that felt a lot like a ticking time bomb waiting for the right time to explode. Inside, she found her eyes following every person in shinigami garb, which seemed to be everyone with scarce exceptions.

"Is Ichigo involved?"

Rukia's question caught her by surprise, but she answered with a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Would you believe me if I said the rebel group's leader took him under her wing?"

"He doesn't have powers," Rukia said. "He should be enjoying a quiet life."

"And yet all he's ever wanted was to protect his friends," sighed Tatsuki. "I'm worried about him."

"Did something happen?"

"Haruka has a good grip on him."

Rukia glanced at her. "Haruka?"

"Everyone calls her Nagisa, you heard of her, no?"

"Yeah, she's the Queen of the Arcana."

"She keeps telling Ichigo not to choose her side, asks him not to feel pity for their situation, urges him to continue protecting his friends and defend Soul Society…I think she's manipulating him," admitted Tatsuki, after days of harboring the suspicion and keeping quiet, she found someone of worthy trust. "You should see her, she's a real piece of work, scrawny girl with a soft voice, she could do no wrong and yet she has monsters like Nagata and Touma at her beck and call. Ichigo doesn't get it, he just wants someone to save and that's where Haruka comes in with her Arcana troubles and sob stories, he genuinely feels bad. Yet he's going to be indebted to her because she's returning his powers, all while saying he should go back to Soul Society to defend it, when he knows damn well they all want to kill her."

Rukia stared ahead of her, troubled.

"You have to get Ichigo away from them. They're just turning him against everyone."

"He won't. Ichigo isn't like that," she answered faithfully. "He won't turn against his friends."

"I think he would for Haruka's sake. She's the perfect victim and he'll always be the hero," Tatsuki stated firmly. "I think he would do anything for Haruka."

* * *

Nagata reappeared atop the highest peak in Soul Society, a mountaintop overlooking the depths of Seireitei and the white fortress that was its prison. He had an hour to wreck as much havoc as humanly possible, force unawakened Arcana into awakening, and retrieve the Strength and the Fourth Cycle Fortune before he appealed to Yamato about Miho's necessary death. In all honesty, he planned to find Miho unguarded and kill her, probably ship her remains to Arashi via express mail; he wouldn't want her to be missed.

Breaking into the prison hardly posed a threat. He could manage blindfolded, but the quicker the process, the better. So, he reevaluated his plan, changing anything he could to quicken the trip. There were so many pending deaths on his list and no axe to deliver them with, which caused a bit of a strain on his capabilities, and then there was the situation with Tatsuki. She was also not dead…yet. He needed to change that status to deceased. For now, he settled on retrieving the real Strength Arcana, Aizen Sōsuke, its most guarded prisoner.

"Touma would have loved this."

Regrettably, Touma was still carrying out a thousand years' worth of punishment for defying Nagisa the first time, not that it stopped him from leaving Ageha's dimension to slip into the midst of war. Even now, Nagata wondered exactly how he managed to get out of that library, it was a stronghold—a fortress of ancient books to keep a friendless hermit entertained. There were no exits, not unless Ageha created one.

He sucked in a breath, seating himself at the ledge of the bumpy mountainous range and called forth a long, leather bound notebook overflowing with names of the recently deceased. It came along with a package Haruka handed him the night before their plan was set to begin. He stared at her oddly, a complaint at his throat because the list came in handy when it slid across his palm, invisible to the naked eye, not when it was tangible with new organization and a lot of confusion. He never should have believed her when she said, "You look stupid staring at your hand and this makes you look professional," or taken it as seriously. Since when did he need to look professional to kill a person?

Nagata stared at his wardrobe, leather jacket over a sleeveless black t-shirt, a pair of navy jeans, and black shoes after Touma and Nagisa borrowed his only two pairs of boots. Touma left a mess in his closet when he ransacked it that morning in search of comfortable clothes that did not make him look like a drugged-up rock star, which all stemmed from a comment Haruka made that morning.

She took one look in his direction over a platter of happy faced pancakes covered in strawberry jam and syrup, fork and knife in each hand. Touma was in a striped, sparkling pink shirt and black everything else with rips in his jeans and a tattered-like vest that fell past his hips. "Have you looked in the mirror?"

"I dressed in front of the mirror," he remarked slowly.

"Carefully?"

Touma arched an eyebrow. "What're you getting at?"

Haruka stuffed her mouth full of pancakes, piling more pancakes onto her plate. "These are great, En."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he snapped in response.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" called Touma, returning the attention to his state of dress.

"Well, it's not exactly attractive," she remarked. "You look like some form of victim."

"Victim?"

Haruka jumped off her seat and hopped toward him, dragging him down to whisper it in his ear. The look on his face confirmed that whatever victim she appointed him as led to a spur of the moment desire to change out of his clothes. The fact that both Touma and Haruka left the apartment without mentioning they wore his boots out without once speaking up about having them when he tore through every room in search of them felt good.

It felt like home.

So, he unconsciously appreciated the gesture, but the fact that he opened the book to the center and watched a stream of unwanted names flash across the pages. He didn't know how to use it. Haruka never explained how to use it.

_Why the fuck would she make something without explaining it?_ Nagata hurled it into the stretch of treetops hedging the bottom of the mountains and watched it disappear out of sight. _For fucks sake!_

He slapped his right hand onto his left and pulled up the correct list. Tatsuki alongside the Fourth Cycle carryovers sat at the very top. The remaining Arcana within Soul Society were straddling the top ten, but that meant he needed to make changes to their estimated time of death and cut it in half. That was his task.

Nagata remained seated after avoiding the whole notebook meltdown and surveyed the bustling of shinigami within Seireitei; enjoying the lengths they went to tighten security to ensure that Death stayed trapped within the tall, white walled dome. If only they knew he was sitting in complete ease miles away, having an early lunch.

He wondered how the higher-ups would react when they realized he was eating a club sandwich with a bag of chips.

"This is a damn good sandwich," he murmured, taking another large bite with a nod. "Great sandwich."

* * *

Tatsuki found herself in a wide cell under round-the-clock guard, seated in the middle of the floor wishing that by some miracle, some captain found Death's Achilles' heel, abused it and threw him in the neighboring prison where she could insult him freely.

Rukia strode into sight, gesturing the current guards out of earshot to speak to her in private. She promised to find a way to circumvent the accusations that silver-haired captain imposed on her. Only because dying meant she might become the Chariot hardly meant death was right around the corner. She frowned at the mere notion of the word as she lifted her eyes to face the youthful shinigami.

"Captain Ukitake convinced the Captain-Commander to keep you out of harm's way as you don't pose a threat as a human," she reiterated professionally. "But if you have information about the Arcana, considering you were brought into Soul Society by Death, you should feel at ease divulging it."

"I doubt I could be much help," admitted Tatsuki. "I might have spent a while with them, but I never trusted the information. Nagata Taishi, he can't tell a truth without spewing twenty lies. I was around him the most."

"Anyone else?" pressed Rukia, reaching for the bars with both hands. "You said Ichigo was talking to someone."

"Well, there is one other person, Touma…" Tatsuki lowered her eyes, throwing his name into the fire made her feel a swell of guilt, but for the sake of her safety, which she assumed was never a concern, the situation kicked her survival instinct into overdrive. Being an Arcana, awakened or not, in Soul Society was like sailing off to sea in the middle of a storm. She threaded the waters carefully, saying what they wanted to hear in return for her life, that and she had a fair share of concerns over Ichigo's involvement with a group of professional teenage-nappers. "…There's Touma…I think he's the Devil Arcana, but I'm not sure. Nobody likes to talk about what he is, but it's obvious he's special…even in their ranks. He's told me a few things, but I don't think he can say anything important."

"Is Ichigo talking to him?"

"Well, they get on better than he and Nagata, but he only stays with Haruka," she answered. "Haruka is the original creator, so she knows everything."

"She's the one you say is manipulating him?" asked Rukia, serious.

Tatsuki nodded.

"Captain Ukitake said that getting to her is like breaking through a thick wall of steel …easier said than done," Rukia trailed off, a shadow obscured her features, twisted them into one of worry's many faces.

"And there are people like Death."

"He's killed thousands," started Rukia lowly. "Taken down captains with complete ease, wiped out armies with a swing of his sword."

"You can't believe all of that happened," said Tatsuki in disbelief.

"It's hard to stomach, but there are captains who have been around since their creation."

This angered her, twisted her insides as if there were a fire burning under her. She felt anxious. "Well, have you found him?"

Rukia expertly avoided the question by asking another. "Why did he come here?"

Tatsuki blinked; amazed she never said it before. "Strength. He came to find the Strength Arcana."

"Did he give you a name?"

"No."

Rukia excused herself quickly, ordering the shinigami back to their posts before disappearing beyond the gargantuan doors marked with a large thirteen. She sucked in a breath, knowing the dread accumulating in her center would either plummet further down her stomach or explode.

She preferred the idea of being a completely normal teenager with nothing too difficult to accomplish like smacking Chizuru off Orihime or practicing karate with the younger kids at the dojo, when Nagata Taishi was just a bitter history teacher with nothing better to do than accuse the school system of idiocy and humanity of foolishness. She even missed the quiet, lethargic girl Ichigo guarded like delicate glass rather than the one surrounded by Nagata and Touma as if she were some mafia princess.

Thinking about it nonsensically, Tatsuki realized it would make a good TV drama. Living in it was nothing like what she first envisioned.

* * *

It deeply shamed him to recognize Yamato had done in his axe. Nagata had urges he found himself unable to suppress upon inspecting Seireitei's sudden fortification. The Kidōshū cast barriers that would put Nagisa in a rut and whether the fact her intellect went into their creation played a minor role as most cycles proved with outstanding consistency that she was in the business of breaking and/or shattering bones. Perhaps, she would have made the better partner had she not sworn her soul to pacifism and restoring an imbalance, one she christened a burden of monumental importance that could not feed into nonexistence like what remained of their humanity.

Try as she may to feign ignorance, Nagata felt completely taken by the dangerous aura surrounding the meek Haruka upon awakening into The World, but with it arose a thousand suspicions. The first and foremost was her human knowledge of the Arcana—the image of her tear-stained face staring down at him with the same heart-wrenching expression Nagisa wore as he lay dying in her arms at the conclusion of the First Cycle. The human in her stayed alive for the various generations to come. He never believed she took control of her memories inside that broken greenhouse surrounded by lush colors and every stranger imaginable. Truth be told, she was not the kind, unselfish being she acted like, she was the lion willing to strike the second her litter was threatened, even if it meant turning against her own.

Nagisa was best kept in close range, under complete surveillance and protection where no harm would come to her and no pain would be inflicted upon others. Nevertheless, Nagisa would remain peaceful so long as Touma remained untouched. But taking into account that she was not around, Nagata could get away with complete destruction and high casualties, which would do wonders to his mood, considering the lack of chaos in the world. That and he needed some place to expel his wrath against Yamato until he got his hands wrapped around the little bastard's neck, but until then, he had shinigami to slay and Arcana to awaken.

Nagata reached to touch the surrounding barrier, feeling the heat sear against the pads of his fingertips. Judging by the amount of reiryoku feeding into each of the barriers, he imagined there were at least five layers before reaching the membrane and each more difficult to penetrate than the first without setting off some form of offense that would potentially jeopardize his position. The tightly contained spiritual energy within—constructing the walls of Seireitei and floating in the air like pollen—was the right amount to subdue multiple Arcana awakenings without the need of a barrier and that was all that really mattered.

He chucked a couple of peanuts into his mouth as he revised his plan. Dodging into Seireitei was the easiest. He would slip in unnoticed by the big fish and given enough time to dispel his black energy to avoid setting off alarms. He simply needed to concentrate on the red energy to do the work. The shinigami by his area were either fresh out of the academy or far too young to ever have known the weight of his spiritual pressure or feel for that matter. If he sensed a threat, he would switch to blue energy, the human half of his persona, and slink by without a hitch. Once positioned, he would start a wave of distractions, cause a few deaths here and there while hoping to encounter an Arcana potential to end their lives barehanded or with a stolen zanpakutō, whichever came first.

A wry smile twisted his lips and he vanished in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

A dangerous silence took hold of Seireitei. The bustling of soldiers brought with it a bitterness Ukitake Jūshirō knew all too well. As high-ranking shinigami relayed the orders of their captains, all thirteenth divisions found themselves evenly spread throughout Seireitei searching every nook and cranny for even a sliver of Death's spiritual pressure, but unlike the captains that prepared themselves for rumored destruction. Ukitake remained beside the Captain-Commander observing from the terrace facing a stretch of rooftops and high walls. Together they watched the flood of shinigami taking to the streets, disappearing behind every sharp corner and strengthening their divisions.

The captain's meeting concluded over Captain Zaraki's impatience to take on the enemy head-on upon recognizing the name Housen Enishi, despite his usual negligence of such subjects. Once respected as the strongest captain, only second to Yamamoto Genryūsai, Enishi declared himself the first Kenpachi of Eleventh Division. It made sense that their current Kenpachi would have wanted to gauge his strength against the original, perhaps prove that he is stronger or merely to fight someone strong. Ukitake almost stopped him, thinking it wasn't wise to declare war against Death to his face, but he figured Enishi preferred that to a "cowardly" ambush. In fact, he might take him seriously in a fight if that happened and suddenly things looked grim for Soul Society.

Ukitake exhaled deeply, folding his arms over his chest as he shut his eyes.

"Do you sense him?" asked Yamamoto gruffly, almost disapprovingly at his usage of black energy.

For as long as he had been the Justice Arcana, he had been prohibited to tap into anything remotely linked to Nagisa's curse. It was a simple feat, but there were times even centuries couldn't convince the Captain-Commander into believing it, as he understood all things pertaining to the purest form of spiritual energy came with the darkest temptations.

"No, but that was expected."

Even so, Jūshirō suspected Enishi was prowling the streets of Rukongai and instead of thinking straight, he let his emotions intervene and decided it was best to report to Yamamoto. He could have easily pinpointed his location if he kept his thoughts rational and not thought back to the poison dripping from Enishi's words. His defection from the Arcana group came as a surprise, even to him. There was a moment in which he figured his fate was to die alongside the others, but Yamamoto approached him at the last minute to give him the option of walking alongside monsters or protecting the balance their existence threatened to rupture.

Ukitake wanted to stay, but Nagisa begged him to take the opportunity, "_These people treasure you enough to take a significant risk, they fought for you, don't spit on their kindness._" As expected, Enishi looked at him in contempt, knowing the fully awakened Arcana awaited doomsday sealed away in the gray area while he continued living a borrowed lie. In the end, Nagisa seemed to have been the only one smiling, the only person to wish him luck and he made her an empty promise, one he entrusted was better suited of her brothers than himself because he spent centuries wondering if it was possible to save her. The Housen men would tear the world apart for her and reassemble it if she asked, because even though her curse brought them the worst misery, their love was greater.

So he never expected Yamato to join forces with Hiko. The betrayal overshadowed his acceptance into shinigami ranks.

However, every new cycle brought back the memories that condemned him.

"It won't be long," said Yamamoto, serious.

The only thoughts running through his mind were those he wished never existed. When he tried remembering the look on Nagisa's face when she promised everything would be fine, the first explosion took the skies. Smoke billowed into a cloud as roof tiles drizzled onto the ground like hale. He imagined the smile was bittersweet, not at all confident. She never trusted in her natural ability, negated it, and played it into nonexistence until it disappeared alongside her.

"I should return to my division," started Ukitake, taking a step back.

"Jūshirō," called Yamamoto austerely.

He paused at the exit, knowing what to expect.

"Be wary of Death," he advised. "Wakatsuki predicts he is gathering the Original Arcana. The time has come with the awakening of the Judgment."

Ukitake snapped around, facing the back of his teacher's head, wide-eyed. The idea bore heavily on his shoulders, increasing the weight of Enishi's words a thousand fold. "Yamato was reborn?" he asked anxiously. "You didn't mention it during the meeting, why wait until now?"

"Because it only concerns you," he replied easily. "Hirako and Muguruma are mere carry-ons from the previous cycle; they are unimportant pieces in this war."

He highly doubted that, but decided not to divulge his opinions on the matter. "Where is he?" he asked, demanding. "Yamato?"

"A human boy, sixteen," answered Yamamoto. "Wakatsuki's youngest child."

"His own son?"

"You should return to you division, your soldiers need orders and the east gates needs another line of defense," ordered Yamamoto, dismissing him without another word.

It stayed fresh in his mind as he hurried back to his division. Wakatsuki Hiko's only son awakened into the Arcana. The Judgment, who had not been around since Nagisa banished him into seclusion for a thousand years, returned. The biggest irony was that he was born to Hiko, when it could have been anybody in the entire world, but it happened to the man in charge of stopping the Arcana every new cycle. Perhaps it was his punishment, but…

Something bothered Ukitake.

Connection was key in the Arcana. That type of connection was always key. It served as a reminder that bonds as deep as one of siblings or twins carried over, specifically the latter. In previous cycles, the Empress and the Emperor or the Magician and the Sun had been reborn together, as a single soul in twin bodies like young Shiemi and Etsumi and those that succeeded their titles had been twins, whether male or female incarnations, it made no difference.

Hiko had twins. The eldest was a girl, the spitting image of her brother.

Yamato had Nagisa. They were a mirror image of straggly, strawberry blond hair and pale blue eyes, except one was fragile and willful and the other strong and diplomatic. Their personalities set them apart.

Arashi had Haruka, while one sought prominence, the other faded into the shadow of her brother.

The comparisons brought on a terrible truth.

Ukitake came to a sudden halt in the middle of a bustling street as Captain Otoribashi and Lieutenant Kira led a number of shinigami to the opposite side, commanding them to travel in different directions. Captain Otoribashi paused at the sight of him, looking over his shoulder once and then again to confirm it was him, but continued forward as bells rung distantly. Messages traveled to them from the black Hell Butterflies pursuing every captain, informing them of the others' position and anything related to the black energy emitting from Death, whether it registered on their machines or not. For the most part, the readings came back negative.

Everything blurred around him when a large-scale explosion rattled the earth beneath his feet. It happened close enough for the black smoke to form a dark cloud over his head that rained down burnt asphalt and a spray of pebbles. He held his arms over his head, feeling a strong wind push through his body with traces of overwhelming power that snapped his speculations back into his mind, ensuring he did not forget.

If Hiko's youngest twin was Yamato, then he was willing to bet his life that the oldest was Nagisa.

Within the same minute, another explosion set the shinigami into a frenzy at a five-meter distance, creating a domino effect as the unknown source struck destruction wherever it could. Ukitake caught traces of lingering energy as the scientists of Twelfth Division informed them of a mass of black energy. Instead of following through with his initial plan, to lead his division properly in the middle of a crisis, Ukitake sped off into a different direction, pursuing the lingering trail he hoped might lead him to Death.

Shinigami pushed against him as they swarmed to the area of each explosion when a disturbing message reached him via Hell Butterfly in the familiar voice of Akon, Twelfth Division's Third Seat, as the warning sirens started blaring. _'A mass of spiritual energy is emerging from the explosion sites!_'

He found it difficult to breathe, felt his insides clamping and a thin layer of perspiration covering his skin as the sickness swelled at his throat. Ukitake coughed into his hand, feeling the familiar warm trickle of blood and coppery taste. He pushed forward despite the wave of vertigo, listening close to the new reports on the sightings.

'_Casualties have skyrocketed to a hundred—the mass of spiritual energy has been identified as black in nature._'

Ukitake knew without having to see the sites. Death's Undead Army had risen from the depths of Hell to aid in his cause. He imagined them, bloodless soldiers with cold eyes and roman numerals carved into their foreheads with force depicted in deep, jagged lines shaped into the number thirteen, signifying their allegiance to Enishi. They were difficult to kill and were as strong as their maker that wielded steel swords that could assume the shape of Enishi's gargantuan axe. The unseated officers that flocked to defend their positions raked up the casualties.

The fact that the Undead stepped foot into their world meant one thing, destruction was in the distance and Death wasn't taking chances to fail in whatever task was assigned to him. Enishi would never risk appearing unless he wanted something from Soul Society or wished to destroy it. He worked with mysterious tactics, but his intentions were never dishonest, not in the face of war.

The pull of his energy grew stronger as he neared the colossal prison structure. Ukitake raised his eyes to the spiraling white towers that kissed the pale sky and then drank in the sight of blazing fires, wounded soldiers, the stench of embers that covered Seireitei in a thin veil of black, and finally to the cloud of smoke that kicked up by his feet.

Enishi's presence was as alive as the air was stale.

"Following me, black sheep?" he asked playfully.

"You released the Undead Army," Ukitake seethed, keeping his tone still.

"I figured since my original distraction is locked away in your division, I needed a better one," he said, sauntering down the street with a shake of his shoulders. "What better than the Undead? Besides, I haven't put them to good use in centuries."

"It's inhuman."

"Like we are." Enishi popped a couple peanuts into his mouth from a plastic bag and chewed loudly. He could hear the crunch even though he moved a few feet from him before facing him. "We aren't human either. What difference does it make?"

Ukitake ignored the self-assuredness in his voice; the ideals spoken weren't ones he agreed with. "I need to talk to Nagisa."

"If Nagisa wanted to talk to you, she would have already," remarked Enishi, irked. "Take a hint."

"I already know where she is."

Enishi clapped his hands in mocking serenade. "Bravo," he said boisterously. "And where is she? Probably ruining some poor fool's life? I wouldn't doubt it."

His eyebrows knitted. "You lie. I'm aware she awakened."

"Have fun figuring out her secret identity, black sheep."

He waved lazily, indicating through body language that he was about to dodge out of sight when Ukitake spoke up.

"Wakatsuki Hiko's daughter, Haruka."

Death froze mid-step; the tension in his clenched jaw confirmed his speculation. Connection was key.

Enishi turned slowly, flecks of gold filling the irises of his usually blue eyes tainting them as his spiritual pressure rose alongside the menacing fury bubbling in his insides. "You make it easy to want to kill you," he said through clenched teeth. "What difference does it make that you know who she is?"

"I will talk to her."

"If you live long enough," spat Enishi, clenching his left hand as if to summon his axe but came up empty.

Various back-up requests were transmitted to the different sites where the Undead had emerged; Ukitake could only imagine the trouble they were dealing with at the moment. But he didn't have time to think about the rest of them. Enishi threatened him directly, so he kept a hand curled over the hilt of his zanpakutō, taking security measures. Enishi's axe wasn't easy to deflect and if infused with his Arcana ability, Ukitake would best count his blessings. His zanpakutō couldn't absorb it, let alone fire it back. He tried it once, so long ago he barely remembered the reason why they fought.

Ukitake stepped into the battlefield expecting to challenge Enishi over Nagisa, so the anxiety made no sense.

But Enishi relaxed, smiling wickedly. "Not today," he said lightly. "Today, I have important things to do and not a lot of time to accomplish it. I'll take a rain check."

In a blink, he was gone.

The animosity lingered minutes after his disappearance, once hordes of shinigami barreled down the streets as a line of explosions set off in every direction, and though the situation demanded he prioritize his duties, Ukitake stayed rooted to his place listlessly observing his frantic officers. Screaming, wailing, shouts of pain—every imaginable human sound resonated in his surroundings, drowning out the sound of his heart.

Once the Undead Army appeared in swirls of smoke in faceless human shape and heavyset armors with swords, axes and spears they wielded as extensions of their beings, the streets were smoldering, burning brightly with fires. They spared him no glances, not even a snarl, paid him no mind—he did not exist in their eyes, but they did in his. The horrible entities carried with them a nearly limitless supply of black energy and wore their origins with pride; carved deep into the flesh of their foreheads was a 'XIII.'

From the wreckage more emerged and he realized he could stay there forever if he wanted. No harm would befall a fellow Arcana, but it endangered the rest. However, Ukitake drew his zanpakutō and jumped straight into a flock of the Undead, ripping through their white, bloodless flesh one by one until he cleared the interconnected streets of their mere presence.

"Captain Ukitake!"

Ukitake whirled around as his lieutenant sprinted off a rooftop and onto the ground in front of him, holding in her hand her pure white zanpakutō. Kuchiki Rukia looked at the debris inquiringly.

"Did something happen?" he asked lightly, sheathing his blade.

"Arisawa told me why he came here," she answered hurriedly, short of breath. He stared at her intently, heart pounding in his ears. "The Strength. They wanted to find the Strength Arcana."

The blood drained from his face.

"Are you okay, captain? You suddenly got pale," said Rukia, struggling to stomach the sight of dismantled bodies bleeding out blood as thick as their armor.

"There's no time," he said quickly, reacting to a maelstrom of emotions at once. "I need as many shinigami as the surrounding divisions can spare, inform all captains and lieutenants. They have to meet me at the prison as quickly as possible."

Rukia nodded.

Ukitake left the duty in her hands and started to leave when she called out to him.

"The prison?" she questioned aloud, first. "You said the prison? Who are they—?"

"There is no time! Do as I say."

Ukitake pushed forward. Death's distraction and the reason he never bothered attacking anyone—it made perfect sense—even the road he walked on added up. It pointed to the prison where the Strength Arcana was being held. It led him straight to Aizen Sōsuke.

He damned himself for not realizing before.

* * *

**beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: Here I am again with another chapter. This is half of Nagata's original chapter, you can tell by the length. It has the most POVs and the most information. I think I've given you all the Arcana now, save a few, but **Stories of Betrayal **is basically our stepping stone to awakening the whole Fifth Cycle. I look forward to the drama. :) Let's hope I can make this work.

Many thanks for the reviews (whether this chapter or previous) **reality deviant**, **Eviline** and **ruler of dragons**.

So, thank you for reading and I'll see you next time. :)

Preview for: **Chapter 24**: Stories of Betrayal 4 is available at my lj.


	25. Stories of Betrayal Pt 4

**Chapter Twenty Four**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Four

The False King

"People worship the strong."

Yamato watched the pests flock to Enishi like flies to shit. The words echoed back into his ears, but left his mouth without intention.

Beside him, Nagisa struggled to remove the ink stain from a haori, scrubbing it hard against the washboard leaned over a wide wooden bucket. Water and suds splashed viciously, movements that mirrored her irritated glower. She paused to wipe her brow, lifting clear blue eyes to the man in question.

"People follow leaders, whether strong or weak," she said lightly, returning to scrubbing the remaining tint on the white cloth. "The only thing they need is a powerful voice and some ideas."

"Enishi is a fool, yet they worship the ground he walks on."

Nagisa sighed, starting to twist the fabric to squeeze out the water. She spun and folded it delicately in her hands until the last of its saturation dripped into the bucket's soapy surface. He sensed her disapproval long before she put it in lecture form.

"When has envy brought you happiness?" she questioned, looking at him straightly with a face that reflected his but an unrecognizable wisdom clouding her eyes. "En has his flock of admirers for being a tactician, not a force of nature. You are a unique form of genius." Her raw fingertips laced over his hand as she forced his gaze from Enishi. She raised their joined hands to eyelevel. "These hands of yours can save a thousand lives; you are just as necessary as a tactician. If his army faces strife and injury, you will sweep into the darkest grounds to breathe life into them."

"I want to be a part of that army, not a healer," he replied, hoping to contain the quaver of his voice. To tame the fury blooming in his insides at the sight of the world he wished to conquer and not forever damned to be an observer.

The softness of his sister's lips pressed against his cheek chastely. "Do not challenge fate," she advised. "It is rarely fair and understanding. You are a blessing to Soul Society and it's time you realized it."

Nagisa walked out of sight to the laundry line.

Yamato lived in a world conspiring against him. Whether human or shinigami, life never truly blessed him. Born a meek, human boy in a warring country, he lived under the shadow of his brother, the Conqueror, until his death came at the hand of disease. Soul Society unfolded before him the sweetest of utopias, full of beauty and wonder, a new shot at life, he had thought. But his body was fragile. It was in his best interest to acknowledge that he would never become physically strong when tied down by a useless body.

Meanwhile, Enishi conquered as a genius strategist with a powerful edge in battle. Touma, a mere boy, scrawny as they come, was as strong as an ox. Nagisa, his half, proved her genius a multitude of times in the objects she brought to life in formulas and scrap metal. Sometimes he wished she would pick apart his pieces and remake them into something useful, perhaps then, a spark of light might awaken within him.

Yamato dropped his eyes to his hands, feeling the skin Nagisa touched burning. His blessing, as Nagisa called it, was an understanding of medicine and healing using spiritual energy, it was all the things he derived from books, knowledge he gained through literature, not an ability born of him naturally. It wasn't new or awe inspiring.

He clenched his hands tightly, nails digging tiny crescents over his palm and his knuckles blanched. He walked among giants, longing that one day, by some miracle, he would become like them.

.

As the memory escaped him, Arashi stayed still on his feathered mattress listening to the annoying beep of his cellphone like a crow squawking curses. Vivid images simmered into darkness when he lifted his body from his comfort, pressing the phone to his ear, knowing who it was long before the caller administered the call.

"Yuka," he greeted lazily. "I was in the middle of something."

The silence on the other side branched from Yuka's assuming nature of his involvement with others, the disquiet temperament of a jealous, possessive woman with no claim on him. He admired her boldness, always had, whether for personal reasons or business, keeping her close was a no-brainer. She was as useful as they came and so long as he entrusted her heart with the slightest of affections, she was his.

"Oh?"

There were traces of sarcasm and disbelief combined to disguise the quiver to her voice, the subtle traces reminded him of his reverie. He wanted to be the soldier, not the doctor much like she wanted to be the girlfriend and not another name on a list.

"It's done," he sighed. "I need you to meet me in an hour."

"Yeah," she said dutifully. "I'll track you."

"No need, I'm home."

"…Understood."

He ended the call, dropping back onto the mattress with the cellphone clutched in his hand. The bedroom door opened and closed noiselessly as the click of heels reached his ears.

Miho came into view a second later, blond hair tied to the side in an arrangement of curls. She dressed in another ridiculous Lolita outfit, a frilly black skirt and matching sleeveless top with a small hat decorated in ribbons to complete the look. She took a seat beside him, in the middle of texting one of her friends.

She met his gaze when she finished. "You called?"

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"A favor?" she questioned, dubious.

Arashi abandoned his bed slowly, taking a moment to walk around it, stretching his legs. "A small favor, I expect you to do this well."

He paused, eyeing her. "Nagisa, Enishi and Touma split. We have an opening." At her arched eyebrow, he elucidated with a roll of his eyes. "Without those barbarians hunkering around her, we have a chance to _reason _with her."

Miho left the seat, annoyed. "_Reason _with her? You hate her, why would you?"

"I do, you have a point," he confessed. "But I never said I would be the one doing the reasoning. She is peaceful so long as you approach her properly. If you step into her world with bad intentions, she will know and bear her claws. At this moment, she is accessible. This is our chance to infiltrate their ranks directly. My connections aren't producing results, I need some that do."

"What does this have to do with me?" Her phone jingle went off, signaling a new message.

"I believe you are the most suited," he said. "Yuka was always an option, but she doesn't sell sympathy well. And Faye is impossible because she hates her. You are the only person able to gauge the necessary reaction, so I've chosen you."

Miho glowered, but obliged. "Fine, what do I have to do?"

"You pledge allegiance to her," he stated. "Say that you're fed up, that I'm a horrible person and you want to be as far as away from me as possible. Who cares, get creative, but make it believable."

Arashi started for the door.

"Where should I look?"

He halted. "You figure it out, and quickly," he urged. "I have a meeting with father and his shinigami friends in an hour. Make it happen." He grinned at her over his shoulder, a smile that brought forth fear from the darkest pits of one's soul and paralyzed her in place. "Report to me in three hours if you are still alive."

* * *

"Feet off the coffee table," growled Hiko, shoving Arashi's legs harshly on his way across the room. He held a brew of steaming coffee in one hand and in the other a small, ancient-looking leather book.

Arashi grimaced, dropping his feet to the ground. "What's with the attitude, pops?"

Hiko dropped into the nearest armchair. "I'm still your father."

"Oh," he said wondrously. "You're still taking credit?"

"I am still your father," Hiko repeated, setting his book open on the short table.

"You're no fun."

Hiko took a gulp of his coffee, flipping through pages lazily. "I never tried to be."

"Well, it wouldn't have killed you."

"I don't need to hear this from you."

"I'm older and wiser than you. Smarter too, no doubt."

Hiko sighed, shaking his head. "Please, shut up."

Arashi sagged in his seat, resting his cellphone over his stomach and started replying to the messages in his inbox, annoyed by how many useless greetings he received daily. "It's no wonder you're friendless."

He felt his father's eyes burning into his face. He felt his lips tug into a wide smile, but was disappointed to see, after a couple minutes, Hiko didn't plan to feed into his amusement. Whatever did he do to be cursed to have a buzz kill for a father? As he zipped through a mental list, he imagined it was one of his misdeeds.

Arashi dropped his phone beside him. "…Will your friends be any longer?"

"As long as they need," Hiko answered. "I don't appoint times."

"Well, you should have been considerate, I could have a plan in the works and all this waiting is cutting into all the timing."

Holding the mug to his lips, Hiko's eyes flickered to him. "Do you have a plan?"

"I have the makings of a plan," he replied with an easy smile, all sparkles and happiness. "It's best if this goes without a hitch."

"Do you plan to disclose this plan to me?"

"Normally, I would say '_in time_,' but I suspect you and Kurosaki are in a hurry to locate your nomadic children." The scathing glare he received from his father for the lame joke made him smile. "Nagisa is a Grade A manipulator and Enishi is one of the best orators, you shouldn't be surprised if they hesitate on the subject of the Arcana. Haruka is an impressionable girl and with a bit of confidence, no matter how suspicious, you have Ichigo under your belt. It's best to get to them before either of them is corrupted."

Hiko continued flipping through his book, ignoring his taunts. "Tell me the full plan now. We'll drop the unnecessary details for Ichigo's companions."

"Agreed, some of the details are best kept from the children's ears."

His father rose from his seat. "There is something I would like to make clear."

"What?"

"The idea that you are Yamato makes no difference in the fact that you are my son," Hiko said. "Whether this makes me happy or unhappy is irrelevant, you are Sara's child, you are my child—"

"Save me the forced kindness, father," Arashi interjected. "You can't stop me from participating in my own war."

"I can and will," he said with finality. "Our agreement will help you leave your trial without a death sentence. It's in your best interest to support Soul Society until your brothers are dead, so until then, don't do anything foolish."

Ignoring the surge of sarcastic comebacks running through his head, Arashi sank into the couch like a scolded child deciding to keep the innermost secrets of his ploy to himself rather than disclosing them for his father's cause.

His angry silence persisted throughout Hiko's meandering through the kitchen for a refill on his coffee. Once his father reentered, Arashi took the incentive to start working towards completing his first set of goals. Hiko's side needed strength in numbers, people with the abilities to defeat members of the Arcana and the line-up was as bad as it looked.

Arashi leaned over the coffee table, smoothing out the creased surface of a topographic map of Karakura Town and five other surrounding towns. He took it from Kazumasa's apartment and figured the fact that every apartment building he owned had been marked would come in handy in the near future. He imagined there would always be a possibility that Kazumasa would help Nagisa by providing her with a safe house. Since Yuka stuck to them after Nagisa's awakening because their powers went haywire, she confirmed his suspicions and gave him something to work with.

"What do you expect to do with a map?" asked Hiko, drawing his attention from his thoughts.

"You should answer the door," he answered.

"Nobody's knock—" The doorbell rang noisily. Hiko frowned. "You better not be psychic."

"The Kurosakis are far from spiritually inconspicuous."

Hiko headed for the doorway, paused. "He's in a gigai."

"A poorly made gigai," he sneered.

"I made that."

"That's why I said poorly made."

"Watch it."

His father disappeared down the hall to answer the door. He reentered the room with Kurosaki Isshin in tow. The dark-haired male pushed past Hiko the minute he made eye contact with Arashi, concern in his eyes.

"Have you found Ichigo?" he asked anxiously.

"I have people looking for them," answered Arashi, flipping his phone open to take snapshots of each location. "Someone will tell me if they find anything."

"Can't you Arcana sense each other?" complained Isshin.

"Not unless the entire cycle is awakened," Hiko stated, leaning into an armchair. "Alliances are created beforehand and only through a contract are they able to sense each other outside the cycle. I suspect that you formed that contract with a number of your subjects."

"It's flattering you consider them my subjects," he said with a laugh. He redirected his eyes to Ichigo's father. "You should probably sit. It'll be a while before the kiddies and Yuka show up."

Hiko raised an eyebrow. "Only the Priestess? You said the Lovers would be here as well."

"Faye is already here."

The foreigner arrived in a fresh cloud of smoke looking from one unfamiliar face to the next until she finally found Arashi seated. "How long do I need to wait?"

"As long as it takes for the children to get here," replied Arashi, sending the pictures he took as an attachment to Miho. "You've met my father and Ichigo's right?"

Faye regarded Hiko in disgust. "To some extent."

"Why is she here?" asked Isshin.

"There's an arrancar in your ranks, Mireña Cascabel—"

"What about her?" snapped Hiko, setting aside his coffee.

"Well, if you failed to take notice, her brother awakened as the Emperor."

"Jaegerjaquez is dead."

"That's all it takes, father. Of course, there were special circumstances considering the Fifth Cycle started fairly recent." Arashi left his mobile on the table as he rose to his feet. "Cascabel has yet to awaken as the Empress, nobody explained this to her and I suppose that works in our favor. She won't enter the house guarded. Faye is here for that reason. She may be no Magician, but she has a strong affinity to kidō."

"A three-hour barrier is nothing in comparison to Death's thirteen hours," said Faye, scowling.

"You helped Death into this world."

"I wanted to brainwash him for as long as it took for his memories to return to him, but I never suspected events to play out as they did," Arashi admitted. "Life and fate are mysterious entities to manipulate; rarely do things go one's way."

"You should have saved yourself the trouble, bringing a monster like that back," Isshin remarked, voice firm.

"I don't regret it," Arashi stated. "I want something from all my brothers before they leave this world." He strode away from them, gesturing to the tall, blond to follow. "Faye, come with me. I want to raid the kitchen."

.

Nagisa was a hopeless romantic. She lived and breathed love. She wanted an exorbitant wedding with flower petals floating in the air and a picturesque setting she could only put on paper. She dreamt of having a family as big as theirs smiling secretly, she would nudge him and whisper, "Maybe bigger." She wished the house was always filled with the sound of laughter and running children.

There were so many things she wanted. From time to time, Yamato imagined Nagisa would gladly give up half her brain to achieve them if it were possible, but others, he realized that even if she dreamt a thousand more, Nagisa would accomplish none. He never had the heart to tell her, so he comforted her instead. He gave her words to mend her broken heart and held her tightly while whispering lies into her ear.

She had terrible luck with men, none of them suited her, or perhaps, it was best to say, she had a way of chasing them away. The heartbreaks were so concurrent that she was famous for it. The friends she held in high regard betrayed her by mocking her behind closed doors and laughed at her expense.

He remembered how many ex-boyfriends Enishi and Touma beat to bloody pulps for insulting her and their involvement in her personal life made it difficult for men to approach her. Future suitors spent hours second-guessing their feelings because Fujikawa Azusa spread a rumor that the Housen brothers were beating up any male that came within a fifty-mile radius to Nagisa.

Azusa had no concrete reason for hating Nagisa. The only connection he made to them both was Nagisa's undying love for Azusa's brother, Shiki, that and the fact that said brother had absolutely no intention of dating someone like Nagisa.

Yamato failed to comprehend her unrelenting affections for a man that wouldn't reciprocate, but there were moments, even in her sadness that he grew fond of the idea that she wouldn't give up. She believed in her love so much she felt that one day Shiki might as well. Nevertheless, her persistence never stopped her from falling in love with others when she fell out of love with Shiki.

Enishi made a game of it during hot pot dinners. He counted them on each finger and even went as far as making a song out of her misfortunes, which was received with roars of laughter from Nagisa.

If he ever wanted anything more as he lay in bed with an IV stuck to his vein, he might have wished to see her happy before he died. He hoped to find a way to amend his desire for power and watch a smile appear in her face.

The black energy was doing quick work of his body and every waking moment was another confirmation that his insides were dying before he would. It wouldn't be long before medicines or kidō could keep him alive and he accepted that. He came to terms with the idea that participation in the experiment meant many of them would die.

The Arcana Experiment gave him a glimmer of hope. Yamato always wanted to think he could survive. He would be strong and eternal alongside his siblings, at long last their equals.

But he wasn't stupid. The medical tests pointed to his death and he didn't believe in miracles.

Fujikawa Azusa returned to his bedside with the results of his tests and a dour expression. She raked her fingernails across the clipboard and shifted her weight.

"Give me an estimation," said Yamato simply.

Azusa folded her arms over the clipboard. "An estimation?"

He spared her a contemptuous glance. "I am better versed in this field than you'll ever be, so give me the estimation."

Gulping, the bright-haired woman complied with his wishes. She drew the clipboard to her view. "At your rate of deterioration, it's best to assume you will last no more than fourteen days."

"Fourteen days," he repeated bitterly.

Azusa bowed her head and took a step back.

"Wait," he called as she started to turn away.

She looked back.

"You called my sister here, why?"

"I am not allowed to disclose that inform—"

"I'd rather this not come down to blackmail, Azusa," he interjected.

Azusa hesitated as she returned to her place besides his bed. She leaned forward low enough to whisper the words into his ear. "We had reason to believe your sister kept a medical condition from us."

Yamato whipped around to see her eye-to-eye, faces inches apart. "Medical condition?" he spat lowly. "Nagisa has not once been ill. I've made sure of that."

The woman shook her head. "That isn't the type of medical condition in question."

"Then what?" he demanded, his voice escalating.

Azusa cleared her throat, whispering as she left. "A pregnancy."

Yamato hastily rose to a seat, pushing his body against the weight of his exhaustion as reality set in. "Is she?"

The malice that darkened the woman's expression as she turn to speak the last words, sent a cold strum down his back. "Not anymore."

.

"Arashi!"

Arashi snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Yuka's voice. He noticed his face mirrored in the exterior of the toaster beside him. He lifted his head to find the Priestess standing to his left looking as grouchy as ever and Faye snacking on a bag of 100-calorie cookies.

"Finally," she said exasperatedly, "I've been calling you for minutes!"

He straightened out over the seat aligned with the kitchen island feeling strange, as if in a dream. He searched his surroundings, black marble counters and white cabinets all crisp and clean. There were many reflective surfaces in every direction he turned, in each he noticed the golden hue of his brown hair and the blue eyes staring back at him from a pale face. It reminded him, for a moment, that he was no longer a prisoner in Nagisa's stairway prison. He lived, breathed, felt and remembered.

He especially remembered the memories he thrust as far back in his head as he possibly could, of life before Sara. It wasn't the first time this happened. He occasionally liked to reminisce about his origins, about the moments in his pathetic existence that he felt inferior to even a baboon like Touma. Today, he was the opposite. Superior.

If Nagisa started the cycle, he ended it with a single touch. He could kill Yuka or Faye if he pleased, right then and there and they would be no more. Their souls burned away into nonexistence, never to return to any living plane.

He enjoyed the feel of power and control. It was a beautiful thing, and yet…

Enishi faced him at the greenhouse fearlessly, losing his prized zanpakutō to a touch of his fingertips only to lunge at him harder.

He hated it.

"What do you need?"

"Kurosaki's friends just arrived, they brought the Empress' host and Shihōin as requested," she announced.

Arashi left his seat. "Faye, be ready to cast a barrier as soon as Yuka confirms she's dead."

"What if someone interferes?" asked Faye, discarding the bag of snacks into the nearest trash bin.

"You leave them to me."

* * *

**Beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: Arashi this time and he is scheming. When isn't he?

Thank you **reality deviant**, **ruler of dragons** and **Aries01xD** (So happy there is more Enishi love!) for reviewing!

Updates will be weekly for the entirety of October. Yay!

Preview for: **Chapter 25**: Stories of Betrayal 5 is available at my lj. I also dissected this chapter at my lj in case anyone is interested. :)


	26. Stories of Betrayal Pt 5

**Chapter Twenty Five**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Five

The Blood You Spill

Ukitake's reiatsu was persistent behind him. Nagata exhaled in annoyance.

Well, he never expected him to be stupid. Stupid people didn't make the cut as Arcana and Ukitake Jūshirō did, a thousand years ago. The foolish ones became cowards who grouped together having faith once the transition, the training and torture concluded Soul Society would accept them with open arms and treat them with much needed respect. None of them liked to believe the whispers, not knowing the overseeing officers started the rumors as a cruel joke.

Once upon a time, Nagata remembered the feeling of faith in his sister, in Soul Society despite the horrible gossip.

.

A light flashed into his right eye, pupil constricting in the minute that passed before it blinked into the left one. The cold fingers of his examiner pulled away from his face, but their frost seeped into his flesh creating what felt like a thin layer of ice.

"Open."

Enishi opened his mouth to taste the wooden surface of a tongue depressor. He blinked his blurriness away. The examiners woke them hurriedly that morning without consideration of yesterday's body fortification, which was only a kinder word for torture. Every person lined against the wall in their plain white robes had dark circles under their eyes and weary expressions, but their presence merited some credit. The fact that they were by the wall meant they transitioned into Arcana successfully and now they were being tested, groomed or whatever other terms sounded more professional than what it all meant.

If people thought transitioning was the hardest part, body fortification took them by surprise. Toughening the skin, forcing one's regenerative cells to work a hundred times faster than normal, and a combination of any new ideas the examiners thought might strengthen them further past their current limitations—the real cycle started there.

His face was taken by the jaw, moved from side to side. Then, the examiner moved onto the next person with a curt, "You're good, report to the Training Room."

Enishi was the first to transition successfully, so unlike the rest of his companions, he had been standing there alone months before the next group came along. Although, that group and the second that followed caved in during body fortification, the curse took them slow and painfully. Their screams haunted his dreams. So he felt he should fight on to come into the lives they couldn't, shoulder their burdens and keep the promises he made to the few that stayed the longest.

"I'll wait."

The examiner looked at him in loathing, but continued down the line. "Have it your way."

Enishi moved out of the way, smiling kindly at his sister, who stood in the middle, gaunt and unkempt. She returned the smile, mirrored it in hopes of displaying the same emotion. It failed. He wish it hadn't because it made him feel worse.

Yamato stood at the end of the line, raggedy and weak, and Touma never left Nagisa's side, never let go of her hand. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, his hand clutching hers as if it were a lifeline, strong and unbreakable.

The order was decided by one's progress. So, Yamato, like many others before him, was in danger of being sent back to the Energy Room where he would be exposed to the crystal. They wanted to avoid that, but his health suffered by the day. He weakened to the point that standing and eating became a chore. He couldn't even hold a blade properly or fight with the same fervor he was known for; he became a shadow of his former self, a ghost without past or present, a memory frozen in time. They were losing him.

Nagisa and Touma suffered daily, unable to cope because she knew if he were exposed to the black energy again, he would die a second and last time.

Since then, Enishi had taken it upon himself to watch over him to ease his worries and theirs.

"You don't expect to do this every day, do you?" asked Honoka, the seventh person to leave the line. Despite the exhaustion in her eyes, she looked perfectly healthy and ready to take on whatever torture that day brought along with it.

"Every week if I need to," he answered, serious.

Honoka patted his shoulder. "You're a good brother."

"Get outta here, you've got Fortification." He gave her a light shove toward the exit and heard her huff.

She paused by the metal doors. "I heard a nasty rumor."

"How nasty?" he asked, interest piqued.

"_Nasty_," she emphasized.

Enishi folded his arms over his chest, moving closer to her. "All right, spill it."

Honoka pointed out the head examiner. "Proctor A," she started. Both observing how he stuck a tongue depressor in Nagisa's mouth while a second examiner appeared, a small woman with short orange hair, to pushed back her eyelids and further examine her pupils. "And Proctor B are having an affair."

Enishi scrunched up his face. "Look at them, they've got their hands all over my sister," he spat, disgusted. "That's a shit rumor."

"Apparently they've been hooking up after hours when Proctor B should have kept an eye on the critical patients, do you know how many people died on their watch?" she asked strongly. "They're unfit. We should re—"

"Wait," he said, after staring at the small woman long enough, "isn't Proctor B, Shiki's sister?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"What a bitch," he remarked.

Honoka nodded. "Tell me about it."

"Hey, Fujikawa!"

The orange-haired woman dropped her arms to her sides and glanced in his direction distastefully. She had a clipboard in her hands. "What is it, Housen?"

"Housen-sama to you," he corrected. He straightened out with a smug look on his face. "How's it feel watching Shiemi and Etsumi in the Energy Room every day?"

Honoka's expression darkened.

Shiemi and Etsumi being Fujikawa's younger sisters failed to bring out her compassion. In fact, she was so absorbed in her line of work that she felt their involvement to the Arcana Project was a blessing, something they should be proud of and not the sort that induced fear.

"If you've nothing important to say, get to the Training Room," Fujikawa snapped, returning her attention to Nagisa. "We're going to have to bring you to the Examination Room, okay?"

"I feel perfectly healthy," said Nagisa.

"Do you see how easy they ignored you?" Honoka stated, heading for the doorway. "By the way, that wasn't the rumor; I've heard a nastier one. About the others."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about the defects?" he said playfully.

"Don't call them defects," she defended.

"Rejects, then."

By then the examiners were further down the hall, a shinigami standing guard grabbed Nagisa by the arm and drug her out the doorway. Touma scurried out after her immediately after the conclusion of his examination, barely pausing to bid him farewell.

"They aren't that either," Honoka went on.

"So are you going to tell me or keep dancing around the subject?"

"We should step out somewhere."

"Wait outside. I'll be out in a bit."

Honoka nodded and stepped out into the hallway.

Enishi waited until Yamato wobbled towards him, the last to be examined by the Relief Center's volunteers. "So, what'd your old comrades say?"

"Examination Room again," he answered dully.

"Well, at least Nagisa can be your buddy."

Enishi wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him out the doorway as the shinigami whispered among themselves. Once they were in the hallway, as the rest of them dispersed to their assigned locations, Honoka led them further down the hall where they wouldn't be seen or heard by the guards.

"Why did you bring me?" complained Yamato. "I have to have tests run."

"Liven up, brother, Honoka's got a nasty rumor about the rejects." he said slyly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"The rejects died, end of story," concluded Yamato, wiggling out of his older brother's hold and attempted to leave.

Enishi tightened his grip. "Where ya headin'? She hasn't even started yet."

"Away from you, pervert," deadpanned Yamato.

"So, what'd ya hear 'bout the rejects?"

"This isn't a joke, Enishi," she snapped. "This is serious. Do you know that only seventy-eight percent of the others die after prolonged exposure to the crystal and that only four percent die after fortification? What do you think happens to the eighteen percent?"

Enishi cocked an eyebrow. "I kill them during training?"

"You are a fool," insulted Yamato.

"Learn a bit of humor, it ain't gonna kill you."

"Of course, I have your barbarities for that."

"You're so cute when you're mad," cooed Enishi mockingly, pinching his cheek.

Yamato slapped his hands away. "Stop that, pervert."

"Learn to listen, idiots!" shouted Honoka. "What do you think is happening to the others?"

"That eighteen percent turned into the Examination Room and died over a short period of time," answered Yamato. "At one point or another they must have needed medical attention and Fourth Division obviously did everything in their power, but couldn't so they died there. They're accounted for, there's a list and everything."

"I thought so at first, but I overheard a conversation between the two shinigami in charge, they were talking about letting them die," she continued, voice turning hesitant. "That's not it; they're talking about what'll happen to us when this is over. We already know this experiment was a failure and the plans are still going through."

"I assume they would preserve those that survived and round up another batch of shinigami centuries from today," replied Yamato. "Eventually, they'll fill the empty spaces and create the armies they want. We're just a prototype. Prototypes are allowed to fail."

"Sounds 'bout right," replied Enishi with a shrug.

Honoka simply lost it. "They plan to kill us after this. They think we're monsters. And every time they change the plans to hit us harder, you keep throwing their efforts back into their face."

Enishi dropped his hold on his brother and furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "You've got to be shitting me."

"Aren't you happy it's a boundless rumor?" said Yamato, leaving with a sigh.

"It's the truth! Even if we survive long enough to leave the underground, they'll probably be waiting on the surface to kills us all," she retorted.

"Relax," urged Enishi, a laze in his tone. "If that was true, Nagisa would already be aware."

Honoka stared at him defiantly. "What if she is helping them?"

A spark of anger awakened in him as he wrapped a hand over her neck and pushed her to the wall. She cried out, hands clawing at his as he tightened his grip over her windpipe. She made a strangled noise, eyes ablaze.

He leaned close, their noses almost touched. "Say it again and I will rip your spine out from your throat," he spat venomously. "I don't care who you are or what we've been, you insult my blood again and I swear you won't live to see the sunlight again."

"Go die," she croaked, fingernails digging into his hand until prickles of blood slid over the surface and dripped to the ground between them.

Enishi dropped her, shook his hand as if it barely stung and walked away from her. Believing death awaited them outside was the first step for Soul Society to realize that Nagisa called it from the start.

_"…this experiment will bring you tragedies in handfuls—casualties every passing day—but I assure you that the ones that survive will neither be human nor shinigami, they will be monsters, far stronger than this world has yet seen."_

Monsters.

.

Nagata shook his head clear of memories as he reached into his pocket for another bag of peanuts. The tall white prison was in sight, only a few kilometers away and he was standing right at the gate. As he savored victory, the street was flooded by low-level shinigami with their blades pointed at him. He halted, popping a couple peanuts into his mouth to relish the salty taste as the group's sole seated officer wadded to the front of the crowd.

"Stand down, Housen Enishi." His strong confident voice boomed within the vicinity like an echo shouting back in every direction. "You will be surrounded in minutes."

He raised a hand to silence the murmur of the pack, chewing noisily before swallowing. "Don't."

"Excuse me?"

"Just don't," he repeated. "Save me the trouble of having to rip your throats out." The threat spread through the air like an airborne virus, leaving even the most practical man baffled. "I'm in a hurry and I assume you want to live a couple decades more, so why don't we pretend this didn't happen and you scurry off to fight my Undead like good shinigami, cool?"

Noisy footsteps skidded to a halt behind him and the monstrous reiatsu of the captains of the Gotei 13 weighed down on his shoulders. He sighed deeply, wishing with added fervor that Nagisa had had the decency of partnering him with Touma rather than a useless, unawakened Chariot. He found the seated officer in the crowd, a proud smirk curving his lips. He found the streets and rooftops toppled with high-ranking officers, staring down at him menacingly with their hands to the hilts of their zanpakutō prepared to defend against him.

"This really Death?" called a gruff voice to his left. It belonged to a giant man with a mass of black hair, scarred from battle with skin he suspected was as thick as his voice. He wore the customary black shihakusho, a ragged captain's haori marked with the number eleven, and a pink-haired pipsqueak with a lieutenant's badge in her arm clung to his shoulder.

Death shook his head, pouring the rest of his peanuts into his palm. "In the flesh," he said with disinterest. He glanced at the large captain after stuffing his mouth full of what remained of his peanuts. "You must be the recent Kenpachi."

Kenpachi belittled him with his stare, thinking him weak.

"You're surrounded En-san, it's best you surrender." Nagata recognized the lax voice belonged to Ukitake Jūshirō's longtime best friend, Kyoraku Shunsui. He found him standing near his four-eyed lieutenant in that ridiculous flowery garb.

He smiled pleasantly, nodding as he swallowed his peanuts. "I'm honored."

A murmur swept through the rest of the captains. The elite were ranged from faces he recognized from the First and Fourth Cycle and unfamiliar, judging eyes. Every shinigami in sight sized him up, wondering if he was worth the trouble of arranging for thirteen captains and lieutenants to apprehend one man.

He clapped his hands together, to get the salt off them. "I guess this works in my favor," he murmured, looking a third time, feeling terribly lazy about taking on so many shinigami at once. "Okay. Let's get this over with; I have to make dinner in an hour."

A flare of his reiatsu got a rise out of the captains, specifically the giant of Eleventh Division who donned the creepiest grin he had ever seen. He only saw him standing still in the duration of a blink before he lunged at him at high speed.

"Keep your distance!" advised Ukitake urgently.

Kenpachi let out a hearty laugh, no intention of paying heed to warnings.

Death dropped his arms to his sides, clenching and unclenching his hands before he summoned smoke that swirled like black rings along his arm, gathering at his palm.

A quick glance at Ukitake and Kyoraku worked as momentary amusement before the gleam of Kenpachi's battle worn blade caught in his periphery. The collected smoke formed into what looked like a handle when the blade cut through the air. He ducked in ease, stuffing a Ho Ho into his mouth. There was no weapon.

"Aim down if you go for horizontal assault," he advised, throwing his body back.

He flipped with ease, bouncing back onto his feet with the usage of his left hand.

Kenpachi amused him greatly by barraging forward like an unrelenting force. He honored the Kenpachi name, made a stellar warrior with a boundless reserve of pure spiritual energy with the ability to bring some of the strongest shinigami to their knees. Sadly, his swings weren't the unavoidable sort. Nagata was better known for quickness than strength, he gauged attacks better than most. He fought enough battles to pick up something new at the end of each and this one wasn't the sort he wanted to fight seriously.

His hour thinned. There was an imprisoned lunatic he needed to get to and five potential Arcana in dire need of a quick death. In the minutes spent ducking, dodging in and out of sight when faced with Eleventh Division's demonic captain and the giggly troll on his back, Nagata got through two Ho Hos and proceeded to devour a bag of spicy potato chips. The disinterest in battle hurt a few feelings, produced a number of uncalled for threats and name-calling.

"What're ya weak? When're you gonna start attacking back?" growled Kenpachi with an edge of impatience.

The pink-haired troll giggled in amusement. "You're so slow, Ken-chan!"

To the demand, Nagata shrugged, stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth. Broken bits floated to the ground before they were swept away by another hard swing when he saw a pink petal fluttering past his periphery supported by the reiryoku of that Kuchiki with the perpetual frown. Nagata slowed his reaction time, concentrating the most of his energy on the swarm of faceless Undead rushing to his location, leaving destruction and death in their wake. Summoning gnawed at his spiritual reserves faster than anything else did, but it was a needed distraction.

It was all a blur.

The weathered metal dug into his shoulder, reaching as far as bone. Pain bloomed across his torso, the blade scraped against the bone, screeching in his ears like nails to a chalkboard, but that barely registered when a turret of cherry blossoms as sharp as knives drilled into his back. The explosion of pain numbed before he noticed he was bleeding too heavily. His consciousness waned.

This was not his Arcana body. It was his human shell. No matter what he tried, it was susceptible to pain. The real transition from human to Arcana happened slowly after Nagisa's awakening. He was not yet there. Even so, he jumped into war relying on his speed to save him the trouble of getting hurt.

_And shit does it hurt like hell!_ He cursed mentally as his body hit the floor.

An argument started between Kenpachi and the Kuchiki, something about intercepting his prey. The latter's argument consisted of the former's slowness and how their order was to apprehend him using force _immediately_. The sentences came to Nagata's ears broken and incoherent, but that unguarded moment was all he needed.

A wicked smile spread across his lips as he pushed his body from the ground, coughing blood. All eyes on him, astonished.

"I should have played fair. This is what's going to happen," he said simply, pushing back strands of matted hair, blood spilled from his mouth every time he spoke, the metallic taste nauseated him. "Excluding the black sheep, there are four Arcana among you and I'm going to kill two of you right now. After I break into the prison—mind you, if you attempt to intercept me, I won't hesitate to kill you the same way I killed the Arcana I told you about—and have gotten what I came for to this miserable shithole, I'm going to kill the last of you."

"Kuchiki, Hisagi, Shinji—"

Muguruma's vehement warning went unheard.

Nagata grabbed hold of Kenpachi's blade, gripping hard until the metal dug into his flesh and kicked off the ground, slamming his foot into the side of his face. The force came as an unwelcomed surprise as Kenpachi's grip loosened enough for Nagata to swipe it, flip it so he caught the hilt and skewer Kuchiki through the chest as he prepared a swarm of his petals for a second onslaught. He dropped Kuchiki to the ground, pinning him under the sword and watched the blood splurge from the open gash as he twisted the blade. He waited out the three seconds it took for the light to go out in his eyes before uncorking the sword to the sound of hysterical screaming and a general consensus of fear.

Only the brave attempted to attack, zanpakutō of all shapes and sizes were summoned by the calls of their masters. Waves of ice, blasts of energy and clouds of ash rained over the area where he once stood. He sprung forward, ducking and skidding out of the way, fighting against the eruption of pain splitting his back. The ground beneath him rumbled and pieces of gravel burst into the sky, carrying with it the smell of dust and asphalt.

Muguruma was the first to swoop into action, clutching his dagger-shaped zanpakutō in one hand and swinging it with the ease of a fist. The blade sliced a thin line across his cheek. Nagata smiled toothily, a full row of bloody teeth, and swung Kenpachi's sword horizontally. As Muguruma dipped low to avoid it, his face met with Nagata's knee. Something cracked in the hit and judging by the lack of pain, that something belonged to the Ninth Division's captain.

Nagata jumped as the silver-haired male fell backward and fell hard over his chest, squeezing every last bit of air from his lungs.

"Captain Muguruma!"

The youngling with the tattooed face came into view alongside Hirako Shinji, the blond Captain of Fifth Division. Shinji observed him warily for a split second before realizing Death's objective.

"Get the hell outta the way, Hisagi!" he shouted, eyes widening at the sight of blood and a gurgled noise.

Nagata only held Hisagi in a headlock for as long as it took to slit his throat. Hisagi dropped to the ground face first, dark red liquid pooling under his head as his body twitched.

"Sick bastard!"

Death smiled at Shinji. "I'll come back for you later," he promised before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Kenpachi's sword clattered at his feet, reflecting his bloodless face and the backdrop of the prison fortress erupting in flames.

* * *

Divisions Two, Three, Seven and Eight scrambled toward the crumbling stronghold. Tenth and Eleventh Division rushed into the heart of Soul Society where the Undead Army of faceless soldiers gathered, finding their way to Central 46.

Ukitake swept across the line of casualties, heart pounding wildly in his chest as his lieutenant crumbled over the form of her brother. Unohana confirmed Kuchiki and Hisagi dead within the first five minutes. Byakuya was stabbed straight through the heart. Hisagi bled out of his jugular.

Muguruma lay unconscious after wheezing his way into darkness; Unohana was working on patching him up, but she confirmed the impossibility. "He has several broken ribs, a punctured lung, and internal bleeding," she admitted gravely, to Shinji who asked the question. "He needs an immediate transfusion."

Ukitake shut his eyes, tasting bile in consideration to his words. "It's best to set barriers around the three."

"No!" protested Shinji instantly. "That's allowing the transition. We want to avoid that!"

"I understand, Shinji-san, but—"

"But nothing! Why should we give them more soldiers?"

"A barrier? What for?" questioned Momo lowly. She stood left to her captain, staying strong in the face of war.

"The barrier is for our protection, Hinamori," answered Unohana, rising from her feet. "I agree. We should quarantine the bodies, even Kensei-san. At this rate, it is best the curse takes him and he transitions."

Shinji raged, squeezing as many obscenities as he could into a single sentence, but acknowledged defeat. Hinamori was recruited to help set up the barriers one by one as Abarai Renji, lieutenant of the Sixth Division, watched curiously, holding onto Rukia's small shoulders. Rukia questioned it.

Ukitake only had one answer. "It was meant to happen."

As destruction reigned in their precious city and death piled at their feet, three strongly reinforced barriers were erected to contain the transition of the Arcana. Ukitake watched with a heavy heart, at the bloodied remains of three devoted shinigami chosen by the enemies to fight their war.

Unohana sensed his worry. "What will you do?" she asked knowingly.

"Reason with Nagisa."

Shinji grew weary and impatient as he watched towers crumble into ruins. He started in the opposite direction, drawing everyone's attention.

"Where are you going?" called Unohana, traces of warning in her tone.

"To the exit!" he snapped. "Chances are that bastard'll leave the way he came in!"

Renji abandoned Rukia's side. "I'm going."

Ukitake opened his mouth to warn them, but swallowed the urge to focus entirely on the barriers. He only hoped the captains at the prison were enough to stop Aizen's release.

* * *

The second time Tatsuki saw Kuchiki Rukia her eyes were wild and bloodshot. She entered the prison of her division enveloped by a familiarly twisted spiritual pressure.

Rukia reached the prison bars quickly and clutched onto them as if clinging to life. The lightness had vanished from her large violet eyes, turning into an emptiness that proved the worst of nightmares came with the reign of destruction outdoors.

Tatsuki spent the entire time lying on the cold floor overwhelmed by the evil consuming the air, for a while it seemed to have been absorbing the spiritual energy constructing Seireitei, sucking it dry, but as time pressed on, she felt it multiply, as if it was feeding on the black energy.

"What happens afterward?" asked Rukia strongly.

Tatsuki blinked. "After what?"

"Once they die," she snipped. "What happens after they die and the barriers go up?"

Her heart palpitated, but she rose to a seat. What she dreaded happened. "They go through transition."

"What happens then?"

The tone of Rukia's voice brought on a hint of hesitation in hers as she summoned the courage to speak. "I-I well…I don't understand it myself," she admitted, only recalling bits and pieces of her transition before Haruka stopped it. The rest was shrouded in mist, cut away from her reach and out of her memory. "It might be different for everyone, but you have to survive—"

"Survive?" Rukia repeated skeptically.

Tatsuki nodded. "It's a different place and it's full of these white, faceless things in heavy samurai armor trying to hurt you." At the murmur of the word faceless, Rukia's eyes widened. "You have to run from them or fight them. You have to survive an equal amount of hours to your Arcana."

"And if they don't?"

The answer came to her naturally without prior knowledge. Something about her body felt heavy and strange. "You have two options at that point."

"What are they?" demanded Rukia lowly.

"You bring them back to life sometime during the transition," answered Tatsuki, watching the hope fade from the girl's eyes. She breathed deeply in conclusion, "or watch them die permanently."

Rukia's fingertips blanched. "It's possible to bring them back? How?"

"Only if you're Enishi or Nagisa."

Again, it surprised her to have knowledge of it. Her insides felt tingly, bubbly even—the calm before a screaming protest.

"Where can I find Nagisa? Where is she?"

Tatsuki dropped her head into her hands, teeth clenched as a wave of pain throbbed in her skull. It hurt like a rock to the back of the head. She threaded between consciousness and oblivion. The indescribable ache continued, growing harsher with every upsurge until she felt it flowing through her eyes, causing a temporary blindness that rendered her silent for the seconds that followed. It wrapped around her neck until the air vanished from her windpipes like a flame in the wind before it came barreling out of her in the form of a scream. Her back slammed into the floor hard, her spine arched and radiating pain.

"Tatsuki!" shouted Rukia, overcome with emotion.

Pictures skimmed through her mind of the wonders and horrors of a past longtime dead where the story of the First Cycle defined her fate. Every pulsing headache brought on a new film of memories, from the moments of her youth when she first picked up her sword to the red-haired giant that taught her to wield it. The recollection of a prolonged struggle to overcome a flurry of emotions and unseen enemies, of the Housen family in its happy entirety with the beautiful twins, the womanizing younger brother, whom she remembered bullying into tears as a girl, and of Enishi…

Enishi.

The doors to the cell opened noisily, door slamming hard into the wooden bars as her body quivered under the swell of new found power. It tasted like glory.

Rukia grabbed her face, forcing her to refocus when her body gave a final twitch.

Tatsuki's chest rose and fell. She was in control and she was furious.

"Tatsuki!" called Rukia, worried. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Tatsuki leveled her gaze with the petite girl, adopting the calmest tone possible as her rage exacerbated. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

The peace in her voice abandoned her as quickly as she reseated herself with aid from the lieutenant. She slid Rukia's hand off her shoulder without breaking eye contact or batting an eyelash. "The son of a bitch sleaze that brought me to this dump," she elaborated through clenched teeth. "Leather jacket, blond hair, you can't miss him."

"Death?"

Tatsuki rose to her feet, pressing a palm to her neck and pushing it slightly until she heard it crack. She did the same to the other side and rolled her neck before stretching her arms over her head to realize the piece of wood binding her wrists together. Looking down, she found her ankles clamped with iron clasps linked by a thin chain.

"That's the one."

Rukia caught on, hand going to the hilt of her sword.

"As _friends_, I wouldn't."

"What happened to you?" Rukia demanded, stepping back.

"Death happened."

As Rukia drew her sword in an attempt to knock her unconscious, Tatsuki pulled back, her preservation of human ties dying out with her desire to find Death and kill him herself, and swung her cuffed hands into the side of the shinigami's head. Rukia didn't have time to react when the wood made contact with her temple.

The wooden board tore through the middle with little help of Tatsuki's fresh reserve of black energy and clattered to the ground in pieces.

Rukia dropped to the ground unconscious. Tatsuki bend over to double-check the lieutenant's pulse to make sure she was alive before ripping the chain from the iron clasps.

She only stared at the blank wall of her prison, remembering bleak gray walls that stretched as far as the eyes could see over a ceiling hidden in darkness. The anger surged through her bloodstream as she dodged out of confinement, seconds before a group of shinigami entered in search of their lieutenant.

* * *

**Beta**: LULuckyTiger

**Thank you**: reality deviant, animelover56348 and ruler of dragons for the support. :)

**xl**** note**: I enjoy having allowed Ukitake a POV and I want to keep writing him. I should have a preview for the following chapter and my complete thoughts and experience writing this chapter in my LJ by the time you read this. Thank you for reading. :)


	27. Stories of Betrayal Pt 6

**Chapter Twenty Six**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Six

The Hardest Part

Ichigo pushed apart the drooping white branches, smelling the sweet scent of ripe fruit permeating in every twist and turn within the overabundant forest. He searched limbs for signs of blossoms only to find barren stems, trying to discover the strangely intoxicating smell. He tore a large leaf from a row of sagging branches, keeping an eye on the pixie to make sure she stayed in sight. He held the leaf under his nose and found the source of the smell. The leaves carried it in them and glittered under a sheen of sunlight.

The small girl disappeared under a curtain of tangled leaves. Ichigo dropped the leaf and started after her. The interconnected leaves fluttered with every gust of wind, carrying with it the smell of salt water and sand. Once he stepped past the greenery, he found a short embankment covered in tall grass that rolled into a stretch of golden sand. Beyond the mounds of sand, he found footprints along the shore that left a subtle trace of Haruka's presence but disappeared with every wave crashing onto them. The water shimmered under the sun, a clear blue with a white glare.

Haruka sat cross-legged by the short, hunched over to rest her elbows on her knees. She wore her hood, obscuring her expression from his sight.

Ichigo moved closer, even though her zanpakutō stopped at the top of the ridge, looking at him expectantly. He moved down slowly, careful not to slip, and walked over the lumpy sand. He hesitated, struggling to find the right words to start the conversation.

Haruka pushed the hood from her face and craned her neck. "Sorry," she said, smiling ruefully, "I shouldn't have yelled at you." She dropped her eyes to the waters. "…I regretted it."

He dropped into a seat beside her. "It's fine."

He understood enough to see the world through her eyes, perhaps not as vivid as her picture, but a black and white version. If he ever did see it in color, he might see the same thing. Haruka glanced at him, tucking her hands away into her pockets.

"You peeked," she said, breakin the silence. There was a strange smile on her face; a sad one that reflected in her eyes as they slowly grew red in what he suspected was remembrance of a painful past.

"Yeah, I peeked," he admitted, avoiding her face.

"…The beginning is never pretty," she whispered. "I like to think it starts nice, that there used to be a good past somewhere and that all the bad things didn't happen."

Ichigo stared at her profile. "Was there?"

Haruka turned, making eye contact. "I think there was," she said quietly. "I was happy when Enishi found me."

"Found you?"

"I felt happy then. It was like dispelling the bad," she answered with a slight nod. "Everything was right in the world, if only for a moment. Everything was right…"

Ichigo tore his gaze away, staring off to the sea to find its rolling waves calming.

"I want every day to feel like that one," she confessed, stretching her arms over her head. "The things one has to accomplish to bring happiness to a single miserable soul is nothing to what I am about to undertake. Not everyone will agree with my methods, not everyone will understand my reasons, I will be hated far beyond one has ever been hated before and my life will never be safe."

He allowed her the silence necessary for the words to sink in. "You won't forgive them."

It was a statement, not a question. He knew she wouldn't.

"This war isn't about our desire for absolution," she said darkly. "We aren't apologetic. When we declare war, they will feel fear. And when the war begins, they won't see us coming, but they will feel it and even that won't be enough."

Haruka always reminded him that they would be enemies in a war he barely understood. Whenever he lost sight of it, trying to believe that she was a normal girl when she was not. She could look the part, but deep down inside, she was at the top of the Arcana pyramid. Everything that happened leading up to this road was done to sate Death's desire to fight someone worth the challenge. That was what this was and try as he may to view it as anything else, he always returned to step one.

Ichigo chose silence as Haruka abandoned her seat. She redirected her eyes to the sky. He followed her observantly.

"It seems the Fortune Arcana wants to break into my dimension," she said lightly, searching the beach for her zanpakutō spirit.

"Can she?" asked Ichigo.

"Not if she wants to stay alive," she answered, spotting the silver-eyed spirit at the top of the embankment. "Let her in please."

Ichigo felt a chill run down his spine at the coldness of her voice.

The child zanpakutō pointed her finger to the sky creating a rupture between the clouds creating an entrance. A high-pitched scream cut through the silence as the blond tumbled out of the darkness in the sky and fell straight into the domes of sands at high speed.

Haruka wordlessly cast a black net that spread wide across the area in which they stood. The girl fell into it hard, body bouncing high and back into the safety of the net, silencing her scream with a surprised yelp.

The Fortune struggled to regain her balance over the kidō-powered mesh, locking her fingers between the netting. "I—"

"There is no need for explanations, Osaki Miho," interjected Haruka quietly, stalking along the net. "I have been underestimated. Arashi sent you. You are here to beg for me to accept you into Death's Army because Arashi's treatment is inhuman. Arashi is a monster and you hate him." She came to a sudden halt, making eye contact with her. "You will betray me."

With a wave of her hand, the net slowly disappeared, giving Miho enough time to stumble off. Miho smoothed out her frilly skirt and patted the bottom of her bodice in nervous gesture. She cast an innocuous look from Haruka to Ichigo and then, to the waves crashing on the shore, ringing noisily in their silence.

"Even now that I have shown you kindness, you will betray me," said Haruka shrewdly.

Ichigo eyed Miho surreptitiously. She hid her left hand behind her back in a motion that proved Haruka's words. Black smoke twisted down her forearm and filled her palm as she lunged at her target. Ichigo sprung toward Haruka, tackling her into the sand. It was instinct. His brain was programmed to protect her, even while knowing she stood there full of life with capabilities outside his reach.

When they hit the ground, Miho's screech shattered the sound barrier followed by bones twisting out of shape, a sharp edge stabbing into flesh and blood splattering all across the sand. That single cry of pain was the last thing he expected to hear from Miho as his body shielded Haruka's. He felt the warmth of blood sliding down his neck and staining the back of his shirt. His blood ran cold, freezing his insides completely. It could have been his blood, but Miho's weapon never reached him.

Ichigo moved, but found Haruka's hand over the back of his head holding him in place. "I wouldn't recommend it," she whispered in his ear.

"Why?" croaked Miho, mouth full of blood. Her voice had a demanding edge. "_Why?_"

His breath quickened as the stench of blood stung in his nostrils. He swore he could hear the calm beating of Haruka's heart, steadily as if in warning.

"The obvious truth in your situation is that in this dimension, you can't attempt against my life without consequence," she started lowly. "But my truth is that you are not my Fortune Arcana and your death was preordained."

Ichigo pushed away from her, jerking around as Miho's punctured, bloodied body crumpled onto the sand like a broken ragdoll. The beauty of Haruka's dimension was lost instantaneously, stained by splatters of crimson that seeped into the thousands of grains and reflected like a red sea in the mirror-like sky. He found her zanpakutō spirit standing right beside the body, holding in her hand a sparkling white sword with a hilt encrusted with pearls and diamonds. The blade, which he half-expected to be pure steel, slowly waved like a white current of electricity until it shrunk into a sleek transparent blade that lost its glow.

The pixie tapped the pointed end to the sand and it broke away into a million pieces. It created the sparkly dust trail that pursued her as she sprinted up the slope and into the white forest.

Miho stared absently into the mirror, dead, with her bones grotesquely twisted out of their sockets. The sight made his stomach lurch. It took every drop of willpower to swallow the urge to vomit. The sand started to wrap itself around her limbs as he turned to face Haruka with a fierce expression.

"You—"

"Does it make you feel better if I said she was supposed to die?" she interrupted, sparing him a detached glance. "Miho was an accidental awakening, our Original Fortune is adept at resisting the call of the Arcana and it somehow triggered the choosing of a capable replacement, although she was mentally weak and easy for Arashi to manipulate, she might have otherwise been able to replace our original."

She met his glower with a calmness that ripped apart his insides, shredded his lingering expectations. Death surrounded Haruka. She sat on her golden throne at the top of a mountain of skulls. She reigned as queen to a world he had only tasted, yet he felt no qualms when judging her. After all, in her memories there was an indication of her involvement with Yamato's betrayal. Who was there to vouch for her innocence if they had never peeked into her heart?

"My energy has returned," she said daintily, gliding past him with that infuriating attitude of hers. "That negative energy you are exuding could work in your favor, please remember the emotion and use it as your guide. Doubt you'd need it."

Ichigo cast a final look at Miho's lifeless body and stalked after Haruka, promising to stop the killings with all of his strength once he regained his powers. The Arcana needed someone to snap them back into reality. Soul Society had changed. He imagined things could be different if they approached them with a solid treaty and a desire to end the war without ramifications.

And so, Ichigo kept his grumbling to a minimum. He assumed Haruka's mind dispelled all rational knowledge of mercy and peace. He never realized how warped her perceptions were until the moment of Miho's massacre—it was not a simple death, she was slaughtered in cold blood for simply being a mistake. He questioned his desire to protect her, he doubted the promises he weaved to assure her safety in the midst of an inevitable war.

Did naivety blind him? Or perhaps his own personal feelings?

He wondered if he simply viewed Haruka as a human being, just as helpless as he was, unable to see past the ease in her ability to cast powerful kidō spells or her unwavering voice in the topic of war.

Did he want to protect Wakatsuki Haruka, the NPSLE patient awaiting death, or Housen Nagisa, the queen of the Arcana declaring war?

Haruka rummaged through her satchel, casting a long, sad glance at the blank screen of her powerless PSP before stuffing it back inside the bag.

There were moments where that girl was present, the one he found out in the pouring rain.

Earlier, in a fit of anger, she had demanded he recharge it and before that, she asked to wear his sweater, which fit her gaunt, sickly form loosely. She talked about swimming professionally, about her desires being outweighed by an incurable illness. She compared her beautiful painting ability to punishment, a talent she would gladly trade for a weekend of nonstop swimming. She seemed so meek and powerless. It never felt like he was forcing himself to protect her, his actions were automatic. The idea was already programmed in his head, his brain only needed to send the signals to the rest of his body when the time came for his efforts. He wanted his powers back with a foreign sense of urgency if it meant rescuing her from the entire world.

Ichigo never noticed the cluster of desperation aching in his chest, increasing its hold with every passing moment. It was just a big part of him—the flesh to his bones.

It felt especially strong today, despite his disgust for her merciless actions. Perhaps Osaki Miho's murder was a cry for help, proof that even the queen needed someone to save her because she was alone in the center of it all and the burden of fate sat on her shoulders. Nobody acknowledged her cry for help, everyone simply expected she dealt with it quietly and led them to victory, but maybe it was not as painless as they assumed. She once admitted that carrying the weight of the Arcana hurt, so maybe his reaction to Miho's death was completely irrelevant to the brunt of ache echoing through her body.

Flesh to his bones. Veins through his heart.

Her voice dispersed his thoughts. "We should start."

Haruka instructed him as she had the first time and he took a seat nearby while she prepared herself to create one powerful barrier to encase particles of black energy thaw would help revive the Hollow within him. He observed her carefully. She was meticulous with her work, managed it cleanly, and reinforced the barrier at least twelve times before dropping into a seat beside her satchel.

She hesitantly avoided eye contact as he awaited the start of excruciating pain and watched the blades of grass between them dance in the wind. An apology was playing on her tongue, one she could not muster the courage to admit.

So he said it instead. "Sorry."

He meant it, squeezed into it every bit of sentiment he could because he heard of the horrors done to the hundreds of potential Arcana. The peony gave him the facts he would be denied elsewhere and spoke honestly. The Arcana had every reason to refuse the nonexistent apology from Soul Society and all the incentive to declare a justified war in preservation of their lives. But he longed for peace. He felt Haruka did not need to soil her hands in the war.

Haruka's pale blue eyes flickered to meet his, bewildered. "What?" she asked softly.

"Sorry," he repeated, lowering his head. Memories he lived through with help of the red peony flooded his mind. "You never asked for this. I saw it. You tried everything to stop it, but nobody listened. And you were still fighting even after the horrible things they forced you to do." He looked to her sharply, watching her eyes glaze in the suppression of emotion. "You're still fighting now. Against everyone."

"Don't choose my side out of sympathy," she struggled, staring away stubbornly. She held a hand under her eye, ready to catch the first tear. "I am not kind enough to be sympathized with. Not everything I have done has been for the benefit of our survival. Everything was my fault from the start. I could have just said no and ended it. I could have sealed the black energy and ended it, you don't know how tempted I was just staring at it every moment, so I didn't. I didn't seal it away. I went through with my orders, trusting my rules would be upheld, even while knowing they wouldn't. I led us down this path for the selfish truth of proving my worth to those who thought I was not worth the trouble."

Her resignation lit something in him as he placed both hands on the barrier's invisible surface, watching as she wiped the tears running down her face. Nothing else mattered. "I think you are," he said strongly, voice echoing inside. "You don't need to prove anything to anyone because you should already know it. Haruka or Nagisa, you're worth anyone's trouble. Nagata and Touma know it and I'm sure the rest of the Arcana know it, even if you can't accept it."

Haruka struggled phrasing her next words. "Please, let's focus on your powers."

"Stop doubting yourself!" he shouted, furious with her attempt to change the subject. "And stop lying to yourself! When Miho died, it hurt you too! So, quit pretending it was all right! You hated it! You're not a monster, Haruka! You've just made some mistakes and you want to fix them!"

He started to feel the pain shock through him like an electric current, twisting his body in strange angles that reminded him of the result of Miho's brazen attack.

"I need to concentrate—"

"Admit it!" he yelled, a sharp pain stabbed him through the chest. "You know I'm right!"

Haruka shook, holding her face in her hands. "You idiot!" she breathed tearfully. "I need to concentrate on this barrier!"

Ichigo's back hit the ground hard, blood filled his mouth, and every bone in his spine felt as if it had shattered upon impact. It hurt a thousand times worse that the first time. The pain seemed to be accumulating in the center of his torso. "Haruka!"

"We can talk after!" she snapped, then lowered her tone to an insistent plea. "Just keep quiet."

A scream ripped through his windpipes, bouncing off the barrier walls and echoing back into his ears. The tenor of her voice deceived his ears with promise his mind automatically dismissed as false.

The familiarly strange sensation twisted in his chest and rippled through his veins, poison in his bloodstream. The last he saw of Haruka was of her hands, half-hidden in the oversized sweater catching the last tears spilling from her eyes as she refocused her attention to strengthening the protective barriers fully. She pressed her hands flat on the glass, casting a glow through the layers that fell through in multicolor and as soon as the colors flooded his vision, his vision split in half.

A weight fell onto his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. His brain turned to mush. He was stricken by vertigo that spun his surroundings until they blurred into distorted shapes. The first time he experienced this pain, it felt to have lasted hours before his vision finally blackened. Now, it was seemed that it could stretch for over days, months even. Everything seemed surreal, the brittleness of bones, a sudden increase of heat, and a force that pulled at his limbs as if to rid him of them, but it started, all in slow motion, he couldn't distinguish reality from the fake.

Ichigo could feel his bones twisting into odd shapes, cracking noisily, splintering off as if they made of wood. His skin was scorched by a sweltering heat threatening to boil his insides before his body was ripped apart by the unknown force. The throbbing in his chest radiated throughout his entire body. It was as if he was being split apart, while his arms and legs were ripped from his body and his blood boiled. It happened simultaneously.

"_**Stop!**_"

He lost all feeling in his body, the pain failed to register, but everything else acted accordingly. His vision broke apart like scattering flower petals, falling into a background of endless darkness.

"…I think I did something wrong," called Haruka tonelessly.

Ichigo's eyes snapped wider. "_**Why would you say that?**_"

His voice was as sharp as a sword's edge, strange and unlike him. Anger bubbled in the center of his chest and burst into the rest of his bloodstream.

He remembered that feeling, that anger. The Hollow. A familiar voice reached him from the pool of darkness that was his mind. He never realized he had been screaming until he felt his throat raw and his mouth dry. His breathing was quick and constant, as if the last deep inhale didn't reach his lungs.

"I thought I should be honest," remarked Haruka. Her voice barely reached his ears. "I'm dropping the barriers!"

"Why?"

Ichigo struggled to sit, lifting the full weight of his body to rest on his elbows. All sensation returned to his oddly twisted limbs, his muscles were throbbing and sore. Despite the excruciating ache, he sensed it in the air, pounding through his veins like a new pulse. Specks of spiritual pressure enveloped him like a second skin that matched the slow stream surrounding Haruka. He sensed every inch of energy that constituted the structure of her dimension, in the flowers scattered as far as the eye could see, in the white trees that waved carelessly in the wind, in the earth beneath his hand, and the air he breathed.

Haruka lowered the final barrier, but he noticed she was not looking directly at him. She stared over his head to something behind him, something he failed to notice when his senses lit.

Ichigo jerked around, stumbling back onto his feet to see his Hollow, all white and black clutching Zangetsu in his hands and a mocking smile on his lips. Every horrific memory he held his Hollow accountable for flooded back into his memory before he searched Haruka's face for answers, but she looked just as shocked.

"Haruka!" he snapped, throat sore.

She stared at him blankly. "Oops?"

* * *

**xl note**: As always, praises to my beta, **LULuckyTiger**, and to my reviewers: **reality deviant**, **Aries01xD**, **ruler of dragons** and **animel****over56348** for being wonderful and I apologize for not writing back to you. I will this time, I promise you. I had a moment. :P

I know there are questions as to how Tatsuki managed to awaken without having died, but I can't say right now! Please bear with me, Haruka will explain it to Ichigo once **Stories of Betrayal **ends!

Oh, and can I tell you how excited I was to break 80 reviews, like I literally squealed and died. I admittedly had little faith in this story ever getting past 50 considering it was IchigoOC and the sheer amount of nonsense that constructed this series, that and how awesome it was that you all enjoy Enishi/Nagata so much. :) Anyway, it's been quite a journey so far and there is but a little bit left before the conclusion of the first part of this series. I'd like to thank everyone who has ever reviewed, even if it was short and sweet or long and detailed it warmed my heart. I hope you continue supporting this series whether by reviewing, following or favoriting. Every bit counts.

Preview of the next chapter is available at my LJ. I'll write up my thoughts later (I talk about how hard it was to figure out a way to return Ichigo's powers and the battle it will be for him to regain them), so check them out, drop a note, but thank you for reading! :)


	28. Stories of Betrayal Pt 7

**Chapter Twenty Seven**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Seven

Targeting the Strong

Arashi reentered the living room with Faye and Yuka in tow, to the sparing sight of Kurosaki Ichigo's closest and most recent friends appearing from the front door hallway.

Ishida Uryu stepped in first, looking from one end of the room to the next. Followed by Inoue Orihime and the big fellow nicknamed Chad before finally the vibrant haired arrancar in the human gigai brought in the rear with Shihōin Yoruichi.

He had already made contact with Yamaguchi Tomo before she finally noticed the burn of his gaze. Without saying a word, he beckoned her over with a gesture of his hand and a kind smile on his face.

Tomo pointed at herself, curious.

He nodded.

Hiko watched him in dissatisfaction. Isshin had no words for his thoughts and opted for a stern silence. But Yoruichi and the rest of her group observed the scene suspiciously. He imagined his promise of peace kept them at bay, though that gave them no reason to trust him enough to allow one of their own to walk into enemy territory.

Tomo reached him shortly.

Arashi's smile turned wicked as he placed both hands on her cheeks, feeling her face burn beneath his palms. The words he spoke next, he meant. "You'll make the perfect Empress."

As his killer intent materialized in the form of a sleek, unawakened zanpakutō, the one-second notice disappeared when the steel sunk deep into her abdomen.

Tomo grasped the handle, teeth clenched through the pain as she prepared a counterattack that would never come before the blade moved upward across her body, severing everything in its wake and leaving nothing but an explosion of pain and blood as she collapsed on the ground in a lifeless heap.

The room filled with horrified silence.

Hiko shot towards him, grabbing him by the arms. "What have you done?" he yelled, shaking him violently.

"I'm increasing power, remember." Arashi caught a blur in his periphery. His attention shifted to Orihime rushing to kneel at the redhead's side. His eyes narrowed and lip curled. "I wouldn't if I were you."

Orihime opened her mouth. "But—"

"Faye, start setting a three hour barrier. Yuka, make sure Cascabel dies within the next half hour, if she's still alive, I'll take it you'll finish the job." Arashi turned to the looks of fury on all of Ichigo's friends. "Anyone who interferes with either one will have to answer to me. We have Kurosaki Ichigo and Wakatsuki Haruka's whereabouts to discuss and many deaths to account for. Tomo will be healthy as soon as three hours have passed and she's completed her transition to our side."

Arashi headed for the nearest couch to have a seat when a wave of vertigo struck him and distantly, he, as well as Faye and Yuka, recognized the passing of one of their own. He dropped down before the coffee table, eyes shut tightly.

"What happened?" demanded Hiko, observing the spread of strange behavior between them.

Arashi held his head, pushing away strands of hair from his face as he craned his head back. "Our Fortune was just killed."

"That damned fool," cursed Faye, averting her attention to her leader. "What has she done?"

"I sent her to infiltrate Death's Army to get into Nagisa's good graces, but it seems she failed," answered Arashi with an edge to his voice. "I seem to have had too many expectations of her, but let's be honest, there is a silver lining."

Hiko's expression twisted into one of discomfort.

Arashi's eyes flickered to his father. "You see, now I have a location—"

The kitchen backdoor opened noisily and a disheveled shinigami in a gigai appeared in the room, short of breath. He found his superior quickly and announced to the rest of the congregation what Arashi suspected was confidential information.

"Housen Enishi infiltrated Soul Society!"

"That son of a bitch," cursed Hiko, pushing his hair back as he paced around the room. "How long ago?"

"We just received the report five minutes ago. He entered accompanied by the Chariot Host."

Arashi hated the shock taking root in his expression that chased away his grasp on control. From the moment he recalled the hundreds of years he spent in oblivion and the partial images that brought forth his sentencing, it was his sister's face he saw mirrored in the biting waters and a memory of betrayal.

Without delay, he fleshed out the plan he slowly implemented from the time he realized his birth sister was the same woman that cursed him a thousand years ago to this instant using his knowledge of each of their persona, able to estimate the hour, minute and second Enishi and Nagisa would reawaken. Touma's movement was easier to predict, with little help from Yurie, the Fifth Cycle Magician, and Faye's memories of every cycle he was absent, he knew the youngest would appear if and when Enishi faced the greatest danger.

Everything action and reaction caused since Death's awakening was carefully constructed within his mind, aiding in his ultimate plan. With it, he anticipated Enishi's infiltration into Soul Society to come once the Chariot Host, Honoka, awakened. He bore witness to the terror they would rein with help of the Hermit's eye, together assembling a throne for their precious queen to sit upon surrounded by the bodies of their enemies in a sinister pool of crimson.

The Fifth Cycle called for absolution, but not without war and carnage.

"I take it you had no idea?" questioned Hiko, sparing him a glance.

Arashi's throat dried. "Release their executioner," he spat. "Order for his release and let him hunt Enishi before he acquires the next Fortune and the real Strength!"

His father gave him a look of uncertainty.

"Kosuda is a monster," stated Isshin. "Releasing him gives us no control over what he decides to do if he eliminates Death."

The group of teenagers exchanged glimpses, trying to assemble the pieces of the Arcana mystery. Collectively, they acknowledged, for the slightest of moments, that whatever war occurred between Soul Society and the Arcana was one they were neither mentally prepared for nor strong enough to face, but their affiliation with Kurosaki Ichigo and the cold blooded murder of Mireña Cascabel kept them rooted there, struggling to make the distinction between left and right.

Shihōin Yoruichi caught on quickly, facing him. "How sure are you of his motives?"

Faye and Yuka did something constructive in the midst of everyone's astonishment as they went through with removing Cascabel's body from the living room to one of the upstairs bedrooms where he sensed a concentration of energy.

"My Fortune just died, Enishi would be a complete fool to not capture or recruit the next host," he remarked. "As for the Strength, it's been a given since the conclusion of the previous cycle that he would recruit him for Nagisa's side, my masquerading as the card did nothing to elude him from the true host, but that was my own mistake for attacking him prematurely." He bit the tip of his thumb in his frustration. "Kosuda may not be able to defeat him and he may be beyond Soul Society's control, but he is the only shinigami crazy enough to give us the upper hand."

"Kosuda was tried and incarcerated for his crimes during the Second and Third Cycles, he has a life sentence," reasoned Hiko, casting his informant a stern look that startled him into an anxious quiver. "Soul Society has enough manpower to force Housen Enishi into submission. Report to intelligence that if even a strand of his hair goes white, to deploy the Kidōshū and summon me. Nobody is to fight him unless they have been trained to do so or are an Arcana, do you understand?"

The informant nodded, shaking the off the jitters. "Yes sir."

"Repeat it to me again."

The shinigami did as he was told and after Hiko's nod of approval, disappeared as quickly as he arrived.

"Whether or not he completed his transition into an Arcana is irrelevant," said Arashi lowly. "As he is now, though his body is human and meek, he is stronger than your pitiful Gotei 13 and he will take what he wants with or without casualties. You should know better."

"Don't patronize me; I've fought Enishi far longer than you have."

"You were a child when we were captains, a mere boy that took orders all too willingly," Arashi said scathingly. "Your opinion of the matter is not higher than my own. Who do you suppose helped him become as strong as he was before the curse? I was. I trained with him to the brink of death; I gave that barbarian technique by imposing proper swordsmanship in him when he thought swinging a sword was enough." He paused to breathe, but continued just as fiercely. "How many times do I need to say it before you believe it? Stop underestimating the Arcana, defeating them once, twice, a dozen times won't make a difference; they will rise again and fight harder! Open your ears and listen to me. Enishi has what the rest of the Arcana don't, he has the Undead Army."

Hiko stood his ground. "Summoning Kosuda will bring more trouble than good, my orders stand," he said with finality. "I asked you to do something, have you done it?"

It took every bit of sanity for Arashi to swallow his pride. "I have Haruka and Kurosaki's location."

"Are they safe?" asked Isshin immediately.

"Kurosaki is important, as is Haruka, of course they are safe," he replied snappishly.

"And Nagisa?" added Yoruichi, serious.

"Nagisa isn't a priority."

"Do you know where she is?" questioned Hiko.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"She's with your children."

Hiko stiffened. "What?"

"Nagisa holds you in high regard, father, I doubt she would endanger either, but if you wish to lure her out, we have better leverage. Her precious treasure is adventuring alongside The Hanged Man; they are heading towards one of The Lovers' Apartment three towns away."

"What do you suggest we do?" Yoruichi looked to Isshin and Hiko, specifically the latter in her quest of clarity. "If Wakatsuki and Ichigo are safe and Nagisa is out there, shouldn't our best interest be capturing her as Yamamoto ordered?"

"Nagisa won't be captured if she doesn't want to," answered Hiko, waving away the idea.

"Even if we capture The Devil?"

"But shouldn't we think of rescuing Kurosaki?" Ishida cut in. "Isn't that why we're here in the first place?"

Orihime and Chad nodded in agreement.

"We shouldn't abandon Kurosaki-kun and Wakatsuki-san to their fortune," added Orihime, catching Arashi rolling his eyes. "Even if you say they're safe, how do we know we can trust you?"

"Arashi is on our side," Hiko confirmed. "We have no choice but to trust in his word."

The comment silenced their need to protest any further.

"Do we capture The Devil or not?" repeated Yoruichi. "If we have Nagisa, they lose a leader."

"Capturing Touma is certainly a way to lure her into action," started Arashi easily, "but that doesn't mean she'll be as physically present as you assume. By the time any of you manage to catch Touma, she would have had time to build up her army and we would be at a great disadvantage. We may have our choice at some of her foot solders when she decides to take him back, but she will be far from our grasp."

Hiko sighed. "Nagisa makes appearances when they are necessary."

"Ichigo and Haruka should be our main priority," decided Isshin.

"I agree."

Yoruichi turned away, frustrated.

"No," said Arashi, drawing their attention. "We should divide our priorities. Two groups to accomplish two different goals, that way you both get your children back and I complete my main goal."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Two groups?"

"I need father and Yasutora to stay here with Faye and Cascabel to bring her up to speed when she wakes up," he started. "Yuka, Ishida and Inoue will go to my sister and Kurosaki's location to retrieve them—"

"Nagisa—"

Arashi silenced Yoruichi. "Nagisa will remain in her dimension, posing no threat to them, but if such threat arises, Yuka can simply snatch them up and dodge to safe ground. The most important thing you must remember about Nagisa is her love for peace." He strode closer to her. "I need you and Kurosaki-san to accompany me to Touma's location."

"Touma is beside the point," said Hiko decisively. "We leave him to continue his nonsense, he can't interfere."

"That gives us the advantage."

"The advantage to what?"

"To kill him."

"Why Touma?" Hiko sounded incredulous.

"Killing the strongest is always the first priority."

* * *

**xl note**: And so an Empress is made. I had no one in particular in mind when it came to the Empress, though I did consider Unohana. Since she plays a different role in the creation of the Arcana, it wouldn't have worked out.

Writing Arashi is nothing short of twisted.

This is shortest of all chapters, I think. The next update will be on the 31st because I'll be gone all next week. This chapter was beta'd by **LULuckyTiger**. Many thanks to **solitus**, **Harajuku Flavors**, **ruler of dragons**, **animelover56348** and **Aries01xD **for reviewing the previous chapter. As always, I am extremely grateful to all reviews, even if they're short. They're as sparkly and valuable as diamonds to me. :)

As always, **Chapter 28**: Stories of Betrayal 8 is available at my lj. Feel free to drop by.


	29. Stories of Betrayal Pt 8

**Chapter Twenty Eight**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Eight

Chaotic

Nagata avoided a direct hit from the Onmitsukidō Commander, but the gargantuan fist of the wolf captain slammed his body through five concrete walls, breaking two ribs and dislocating a shoulder. The throbbing of his muscles went on ignored as he forced himself to a shaky stand. Kyoraku stood waiting at the end of the hall with his twin scimitars drawn and a cool grin on his face, behind him stood Rose, of the Vizards and a retired Tower, holding in his hand his golden whip. He sensed their lieutenants and a handful of unseated officers running to the underground levels in the hopes of reaching Aizen before he did, but he sent a couple dozen Undead in pursuit.

He praised Ukitake again mentally for his lack of stupidity.

He cleaned more blood from his face, but the action merely smeared it across his cheek. "Come on fellas, if you want to hurt me, you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that," he taunted, putting a fist to his chest. "This body's built to last."

A nicely delivered bluff, he acknowledged, but one that went unnoticed.

The petite Onmitsukidō woman and wolf captain reappeared at the hole in the wall. Nagata was amazed that a whole chunk of wall stayed upright even though the floor beneath it was falling apart under the weight of their fight and the ceiling had been blown out in the activation of the wolf captain's bankai.

Nagata wondered if at a certain point Soul Society thought it fit to worship the ground Nagisa walked on for her creation and the intelligence it took to help it evolve into energy that molded into a body like a second skin, increasing the person's susceptibility to pain. Thanks to the final transition, Nagata could take three times their attacks about a hundred times over before his body caved. The pain, no matter how excruciating was nothing compared to the hours of ongoing torture they endured in the underground cells. It was all for the sake of an army, a unique defense force meant to annihilate large-scale threats—one that should have never existed.

If he believed in anything, it was in that. The Arcana were as much an abomination as the people that subjected them to trials of uncertainty. He knew from the minute of their emergence, in the instant it took for the warmth of sunlight to envelop his staggering form in light, that the world unveiled as far as his eyes could see was one that could never accept them. The cries and murmurs of relief rumbled in the crowd—short lived elation before he realized the crowds of shinigami and their new captains were not there to greet them. The joy drained from his expression, replaced by a crease between the eyebrows and a threatening growl.

It felt much like this.

Like the hatred of the entire world gathered and embodied each of the soldiers you called comrades or friends, who shot at you in fury and determination with distinct efforts to snuff out what remained of the life in you. Except, Nagata could attest, a thousand years ago, that he did nothing to deserve the wrath. It was different today.

He deserved it. Not that he felt guilty about it. Sure, they were dead or dying, one of the two variations, but it wasn't permanent. After the transition, they would be as good as new. No, better. Ten times better. And maybe he was the one that felt offended because he did them a favor, not a disservice and that Kenpachi hounded him like a wild animal while that stupid Kuchiki prepared an underhanded attack that hurt a lot for a projectile. The only thought running through his head the moment the cherry blossoms burst into his back was that he wanted to return home and slap Kouyou for being the forefather of a bunch of pricks.

_I bet he's proud_, he thought, reading his enemies movements.

For the split second it took him to think those thoughts, they had devised a silent plan of assault, shifting into ghostly attack positions, ready for whenever the self-appointed leader gave the signal.

Nagata closed his eyes, locating the flame of black energy fueling the movements of his Undead. The faceless army held up nicely on the outside, parrying with over a hundred officers, while the few dozen below ground were three levels from reaching Muken, the lowest level of the underground prison.

When he reopened his eyes, the four captains were already on him. Kyoraku attacked from above, both swords raised high above his head. The Vizard captain snapped his whip-like zanpakutō and it wound and tightened around him. The wolf captain drew an arm back, commanding his gigantic bankai to mirror it and swung so hard it cut through the air. He sensed the short captain's spiritual energy growing distant as the air swirled around him.

Only the shallow beating of his heart rang in his ears, drowned in silence.

Nagata held Kyoraku's gaze as a smile stretched across his mouth.

A blast shot to the sky, the combined attacks rolling through the floor like waves of electricity that destroyed the entire upper level. Rubble tumbled over the remaining brittle walls as the panicked screams of prisoners emerged whose cells had caved in. The view from the sky did nothing but reveal a deep, empty crate smoldering in soot-colored smoke.

Kyoraku sighed, looking into the stretch of destruction. "He got away."

.

.

Why did everyone underestimate his ability to dodge?

Nagata took three minutes of resting time to catch his breath and discard his torn, bloodied jacket. He peeled it off slowly, the flesh wound covered his back entirely and the skin around it was red raw. He reached across his back, touching the disfigured muscle tissue and ripped flesh gingerly. It stung.

He inhaled sharply.

Among the rest, the damage to his back was the only one in need of medical attention, but it needed to wait. He had four lieutenants and a captain to outperform, but first, he needed to gather his remaining energy. Rubbing a wad of blood from his back he slapped the same palm to the ground, using the same method that brought the Undead out to return them to his bloodstream.

As he beckoned them through the blood smudged across the floor, the hundreds of faceless soldiers twisted as the skin melted from their faces, falling into clumps on the ground before the earth absorbed the white remains turning them into shadows that shot back to him at high speed. Milliseconds later, thin black shadows reached his palm, sliding up his arms like a ghostly touch and seeping into his flesh wounds. The energy contained in them healed a few cuts and bruises forming along his arms and face until the last dose was delivered. His back sizzled as the healing processes closed the smallest of lacerations.

Nagata returned to his feet, sensing the action had drawn the captains straight to his location. The lieutenants remained one level above Muken. Everything was just as he wanted. For a minute, he thought it wouldn't have worked out for the best.

He dodged.

The four lieutenants were taken by storm when he appeared before them. He slunk through them with ease, fueled by his reacquired energy. He took them on as they launched at him.

The long faced youngling with the blond hair called out to his crooked sword, swinging vertically. Nagata laughed in amusement, sliding out of the blade's trajectory and uppercut him, knocking him backwards onto the ground.

Next was the woman in glasses, drawing a sword from out of nowhere. She used it to disguise a kidō, a shock of black lighting meant to render him useless long enough for the older male in sunglasses to strike. He slammed his elbows in the latter's face, smashing his dark glasses to bits and breaking his nose while jerking his sword from its sheath. The black lightning was still wrapped around his body, but caused nothing more than an annoying itch. He used the zanpakutō he stole to ram it straight into Kyoraku's lieutenant, for mostly personal reasons against her flamboyant loser of a captain.

Finally, he stood face to face with a pudgy, gold-bearing man holding a spiked ball in his hands who was shaking from head to toe.

Nagata snorted. "I don't even take pity on the useless."

With a quick dodge, he appeared behind the man and slammed his foot into the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious while the rest of the lieutenants struggled back onto their feet. He rushed into the staircase down the narrow hall, took it three steps at a time before jumping off it entirely.

The underground prison stood heavily protected by kidō and bulking shinigami with nothing better to do than pretend they're guarding dangerous prisoners. Nagata took out the two at the front gate with an ease that left him hungering for a challenge and broke through the strongest binding spells with sheer strength. Most of them were of Nagisa's creation with few uncomplicated changes and others were made by her successors, though not as tricky as they hoped.

Long ago, he volunteered to be Nagisa's guinea pig when it came down to testing them. His body was strong and it grew stronger with every dangerous hit. These were child's play, even The Magician was a better kidō user and she normally sucked.

It was easier to pick up Aizen's energy once he got through the entrance. Nagata followed it through a single hallway before it branched into two paths where he went left to a pair of steps and a corridor flooded in light. He touched his palm to the smooth gray walls and felt a chill strum down his spine, a dreadfully familiar chill. The lights aligned to the ceiling were white fluorescents, but the occasional metal holster remained nailed to the walls where candlelight pierced the darkness to the torture rooms.

Ironic. They would turn the underground laboratory into the lowest prison level.

Nagata shook his head. _No use reminiscing._

A metal door awaited him at the end of the hallway. He pressed his hands against the cool surface, grinning wildly in sight of his goal, remembering the state he left Soul Society. There were no spells holding it closed, not an inch of protection. He merely grabbed the untouched handle and gave a hard pull, pouring into his hands all the physical strength he had and heard the screech of the metal as it started to bend out of shape. He continued giving it tugs, feeling his face grow hot with each pull until it wailed—a voice so pure it resonated through the narrow corridor.

Torn from its hinges, the metal scrap sat against the wall as Death entered the cylindrical chamber to find Aizen Sōsuke, blinded and silenced by black leathery straps that covered his entire face. He sat strapped to a chair, thinner and weaker than ever with a single year of twenty thousand completed for his sentence. Three small spotlights shone directly above him, giving the rest of the room an eerie glow.

Nagata wasted no time to cross the distance between them. He sunk his fingers between the straps and tore them from his face.

It took a moment for Aizen's eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. He shut them, struggling against his binds, and reopened them slowly to the shade Death provide with his towering form.

"What a way to kill yourself," complimented Nagata, smirking. "I honestly didn't expect it. How'd you find out about the Arcana, eh?"

Judging by the sly smile on his face, Aizen recognized his voice without having to lift his eyes to him. "I've known," he said slowly, voice gruff. "I'm no fool."

"'Course not, but did you honestly try to use your Arcana strength to become the next Spirit King?" mocked Nagata, reaching to the straps around his wrists and tearing them off.

Aizen rubbed his wrists, the skin rubbed raw. "It crossed my mind."

"That was pretty stupid."

Nagata finished removing the rest swiftly and helped him onto his feet. He guarded the door as the brown-haired male stretched his numbed limbs and smoothed the surface of his black robe.

"It seems the Gotei 13 did quite a number on you," he commented, observing the terrible lacerations across his back.

"I killed two captains, a lieutenant, and a civilian," remarked Nagata, facing him. "What have you done?"

Aizen only watched him in amusement, reminding Death how much he hated the Strength Arcana. _Creep._

Nagata sensed the group moving into Muken at heightened speed as he munched on a bag of thick fries covered in mayonnaise and ketchup, earning a strange look from the prisoner. "The captains are coming down, you know how to dodge?"

"To an extent."

"I got rid of the binding kidō in the entire floor so we should be able to dodge outside the prison and head for the exit," Nagata elucidated. "Nagisa wants to talk first; you can do whatever you please after."

The energies were drawing closer and with a last munch to a pair of fries, Nagata turned to Aizen shamelessly and said, "By the way, I ate your lunch, all this death makes me hungry."

Soifon stormed into the chamber a second late, zanpakutō glinting golden under the spotlights as black smoke festered where Aizen and Death once stood.

Outside, Seireitei was in chaos. Smoke billowed in the sky, amassing dark clouds full of toxins. Buildings, watchtowers and streets were reduced to craters, rubble and dirt. Shinigami clustered in and out of sight carrying away their casualties while the remaining commanding officers advised them to prepare for battle. News of Aizen's prison break spread like wildfire, every dodge they took closer to the edge of Seireitei brought more information to their ears, but there was no input on their location.

Everything was right in the world the closer they were to escape.

"Hey, asshole!"

_Everything but the sound of that voice, _he thought as he slowly whirled around midair.

Nagata came face to face with Tatsuki, except she had the glare of a harpy and the claws and brute strength to shred him to ribbons. Figuratively, of course. He leaned closer to Aizen, using a hand to shield his lips. "Why don't you knock her unconscious?"

Aizen arched an eyebrow, incredulous. "Are you giving me orders?"

Death smiled. "I'm making a suggestion, we don't need this kind of fury destroying our chances of escape," he said convincingly. "Besides, you've been cooped up in that hellhole for over a year, you need a bit of a work out."

In silent agreement, Aizen moved forward, noting the fear he once witnessed in the girl's eyes vanished and knew the courage could only belong to Honoka, the infamous spitfire. He gave her a mere moment of acknowledgment before appearing before her, a fist embedded deep in her stomach. She fell forward, spitting out saliva as the oxygen constricted in her lungs, and then was limp. He tossed her unconscious form over his shoulder.

Nagata caught her with ease, holding her slumped over his shoulder before pressing forward, laughing. "Newborns are rarely at their peak."

Aizen merely chuckled.

The rest of the trip was barren of assault. Nagata and Aizen were a mile away from walking out the front door without another hitch when the fun fact of the afternoon returned to bite him in the ass. He was as good as late to prepare dinner.

A blur of red and yellow intercepted their path, sharp blades at the ready—a sword for each of their enemies. Aizen let the jagged sword of Kuchiki's redheaded lieutenant sink deep into his forearm. Hirako's sword sliced through a couple strands of hair and left a thin scratch across his forehead, Nagata threw his head back in time to avoid it.

"Outta all the assholes that coulda escaped from prison, it had ta be you," snapped Hirako, glaring pointedly at his ex-lieutenant before returning his glower to Nagata's smiling face. "And you, don't think yer getting away this time."

"You are thousand years too young and stupid to be shouting threats," said Nagata, smile vanishing. "Take care of the redhead, immobilize him, kill him, I don't care."

"Gladly."

Nagata swept onto the nearest rooftop with Hirako in hot pursuit while Aizen's fight against the tattooed redhead blurred in his periphery. He dropped Tatsuki's body onto the tiled roof as Hirako prepared to name his zanpakutō, twisted around mid-air when the sword started glowing and directed his first hit to the blond's hands. His foot slammed hard into the hilt, causing Hirako to loosen his grip and lose his concentration.

Hirako detached a hand and swung hard, crushing his fist hard into Nagata's jaw. It throbbed all the way to his ear, but he barked out a laugh, taking the haori in his hands. He drew his head back, but he never had the chance to slam into his head full force like he had to that Kuchiki when the blade thrust into his side, twisting as if Hirako's intention was to carve his name over his insides.

Blood splattered across Hirako's robes.

"It should be a crime to be so vicious, captain," mocked Nagata, teeth bloody and dripping. "How's it feel to be three times a traitor?"

"I'm not tryin' ta destroy Soul Society!" retorted Hirako, feeling Death's cold touch on his face. "I'm defending it from scum like you!"

"And yet, scum like me still wins in the end—"

_Crack!_

Hirako's neck snapped and his body fell to the ground like a dead log.

"Captain Hirako!"

Nagata landed safely at Hirako's side, reaching to hoist his body onto his shoulder. On the other side, heaving his body out of a crater, a bruise-faced lieutenant nursed a broken arm to his chest, coughing blood onto the ground after shouting at his fellow superior. Aizen was facing in the opposite direction, completely disinterested.

"It seems the Captain-Commander plans to greet us," announced Aizen.

"Grab the girl!" ordered Nagata, but his panic stemmed from a sudden surge of energy reaching him from the human world. He sensed Touma was in trouble.

Aizen appeared by her side, picking her up and in the blink of an eye stood beside Nagata. "Why Hirako?"

"He's our new Fortune. Our old one died." Nagata watched the redhead struggle back onto his feet. "Well, we're in a bit of a pinch back home, we'll come back when we clear our schedules a bit," he declared. "We suggest you get stronger during that time, because this was more like a massacre than an invasion."

"Wait!"

And they were gone.

* * *

**Happy Halloween~~!**

**xl note**: If you don't celebrate Halloween, well, enjoy the random update. Many thanks to my lovely beta, **LULuckyTiger**, and the wonderful reviewers, **reality deviant**, **animelover56348**, **ruler of dragons** and **Aries01xD** for making my days better.

Chpt 29 preview should be up now. It's all about Keigo and Touma now. :)

I have two last chapters of Stories of Betrayal that will be released November 2nd and November 4th. I hope to bring you more lovely chapters throughout the month if possible!


	30. Stories of Betrayal Pt 9

**Chapter Twenty Nine**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Nine

The Bravest Heart

Asano Keigo sighed, stealing glances of his redheaded tutor as he flipped through a gossip magazine. They returned to the apartment shortly after his bathroom episode where it was decided he would have to accept the rest of those terrible memories.

He dreaded the idea, the mere thought of closing his eyes to see an unfamiliar film of pictures zip through his head and relive them scared him. He was asked to focus, calm his nerves and forget the bloody memories transmitted to him from the Second Cycle. He tried for as long as an hour but failed.

"How long are we going to be here?" he asked finally.

Touma raised his eyes to meet his. "You're slacking."

Keigo pouted. "You're one to talk."

"Yes," he agreed, "but I can Dodge."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he complained.

"Everything." Touma shrugged. "I mean, I guess."

_I guess? _Keigo slumped in his seat, staring at him skeptically. "You guess?"

Touma turned the page noisily, nodding, before shutting the magazine all together. He set it on his lap, leaning over his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. "Yeah," he said lightly. "I guess."

"You never explained anything!"

"Well, what do you need to know?" he asked innocently.

"Why do I need to focus? No—why do I need to know these memories at all?"

"Because I believe all past experience, good or bad, hilarious or humiliation mold the person," Touma answered honestly, not a shred of humor in his voice. He meant every word he said and for the first time, Keigo felt he was speaking to someone completely different. "Some Arcana awaken with all their memories intact, others go through a set of trials to receive them and the rest obtain them naturally. Truth be told, you don't fit in any of those categories, well, not in particular. I think all Arcana have access to their memories and it all comes down to whether or not they want to accept themselves completely or remain ignorant to the aspects that made them into who they were and are today."

Keigo found himself listening now.

"If you wanted to you could tune into the memories gathered by all the previous Hanged Man like you did at the bar," he finished.

"I did that by accident," Keigo started, the massacre fresh in his mind. It caused his stomach to twist uncomfortably and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want them.

"You need someone to talk you through them," Touma decided. "I may have been absent for the most part, but I remember the beginning as if it were yesterday and everyone who participated in the experiment, even the ones that didn't make it. When you think about it there is no greater horror than admitting you saw dozens upon dozens of people die or that you killed people that were once your subordinates and friends because they decided you weren't necessary. Many people betrayed us. Our own families turned their backs on us."

Touma left his seat and entered the kitchen. He rummaged through the refrigerator and pulled out a glass container full of pink lemonade. He pointed at it. "Do you want some?"

Keigo shook his head.

"There're juice boxes and strawberry soda in there too," he mentioned. "I also have red wine and a bottle of Bacardi nobody knows about."

"Don't offer me alcohol, I'm seventeen!" he snapped, scandalized.

Touma blinked amazed as he poured himself a glass of lemonade. "I'm a thousand three hundred seventeen. Hah, we're both seventeen…in a way. What a coincidence eh?" He laughed with a shake of his head. "I doubt anyone would sell me alcohol if they knew I was ancient."

Keigo's mouth dropped. How can you be that old and look so young? "Don't you age?"

"I do. Slowly, but I do." Touma gathered a selection of bottled and canned drinks from the fridge as he put away the lemonade and carried them to the coffee table between himself and Keigo. "But actually, to prevent me from entering the fray, Nagisa blasted me with a forbidden kidō that reduced me to my childhood likeness and placed me into the Hermit's custody where I lived imprisoned. I had a lot of time to grow into adulthood."

"So she turned you into a kid?"

"So to speak," he agreed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

Keigo reached for a soda. "Why?"

"There are a lot of things I don't agree with that Nagisa has done and many of them have no meaning outside her head, but I honestly believe she has a good reason for doing everything." Touma set his glass in front of him. "And it's funny, really, because I grew up hating all her stupid, unfair rules. She never let me do anything. I had to go behind her back to do half the things I wanted and she would get so angry at me I swear her face turned red."

Keigo found the humor in his tone and laughed along with him when he did as well.

"I hated Nagisa, probably more than anyone in the world," Touma admitted, shaking his head. "It was like everything she did was to spite me. And then, she left me to my own devices and I hated her even more because she had been right the whole time, I was just too young and stupid to realize it." He looked at him. "I regretted all the trouble I caused her. She never expected it would be so hard to raise a kid, but then again, I doubt she knew it would come to this when she was growing up."

"Why did she do it?"

"Because our brothers were idiots," he answered. "Nagisa would consider you lucky for meeting them until they grew out of their stupidity, well, Natsuno."

The name Natsuno resonated with him. He raised his eyebrows, confused, and repeated it. "Natsuno?"

"Natsuno is what I know you by," Touma clarified. "We used to bar hop, so I guess the memory triggering was my fault for mentioning it."

"So was the memory from then?" he questioned, blinking up at him. "You know, Natsuno's memory?"

"Few Originals survived after the First Cycle, the Kidōshū used a technique to try to seal most of the Arcana and it basically sealed you into what we call oblivion until you were born into this cycle. I mean, you were lucky if you weren't killed or survived long enough not to be because you continue reincarnating in the same body at the start of every new cycle, but at the same time, you were forced to be with a new group of strangers that had nothing to do with the Arcana from the start. They were just people chosen at random meant to continue on the legacy of all the trapped souls."

Keigo's eyebrows knitted as he moved to the edge of his seat. "So you're saying the memories you want me to remember are from all the previous Hanged Man? Lifetimes completely? How is that even possible? Won't I have a brain overload or something?"

Touma snorted. "No, you won't."

"Why's that funny?"

He struggled to quiet down. "Nothing."

"You're still laughing."

His mouth was shaking. "Only on the inside."

It took an hour for whatever inside joke to lose its charm to Touma and once again, Keigo found himself staring at the funky label on his soda to use as the focal point to his concentration. Touma returned to his quiet magazine flipping, promising to help when he needed it. Keigo felt he should have offered his aid from the start and not wait if a number of hours made a difference.

Keigo wasn't good at concentrating. There were so many thoughts and questions in his head distracting him.

"How do I know I'm doing it right?" he asked, breaking the hour long silence.

"I don't want to kill the mystery."

"But I want to know!"

"Concentrate on the memory," replied Touma easily. "I know you have been avoiding the thought of it because…well, who wants to see a bunch of kids and old men get their heads chopped off by a maniac? However, doing so should draw out the rest, including the events that follow and those that precede it. Everything you need to know about your Arcana and abilities will come naturally to you and nobody will need to know that I'm horrible at what I do."

"You are bad at what you do," Keigo remarked, arms folded across his chest as he slumped into his cushioned seat.

"That's why we should keep it a secret," he said lowly with a finger to his lips.

"I don't think it's a secret."

Touma puffed his cheeks in reluctance, but finally gave into helping him. He set aside all his distractions, including the mountain of soda cans he built with the rest of the selection he gathered, the stack of magazines and his sister's PSP. He cleared the table and asked him to push the furniture into the walls. Keigo stared at him skeptically, but went on to do as he was told.

"What are you doing?" asked Keigo once the wooden floorboards had been exposed.

"We are going into my dimension," Touma announced, shaking his hands before rubbing them together. "I don't recommend going in and out of a gateway indoors, sometimes you open it wrong and make a wreck out of things, but we need to be careful."

He imagined that was the reason why they cleared everything out.

"So how do you open a gateway?"

"You gather energy first, in your hands," he said, flexing his hands. The sinister energy filled the room, swirled round it until it started closing inside his palms. Touma shot him a fleeting look and a smile. "And then you use it to rip open a gateway, like this."

Keigo watched Touma reach in front of him, pressing his knuckles together and ripped a seam through the space before his eyes. It stretched vertically into a thick black line before he pulled both sides apart with all his strength, opening the gate to a pitch-black world of sweltering heat.

A hot wind whipped against him and he moved away where it couldn't reach him. His heart strummed loudly in his ears. He was scared to walk inside after the redhead stepped aside to make way.

"And that's that," Touma announced and waved a hand into the strange gate. "Go in."

"Is it safe?"

"You've got me. Go on."

Keigo went with his gut, sucked in a breath and walked ahead of him. He glanced at him and then stepped inside locking his arms at his sides as he entered. Touma followed close behind, the entrance vanishing.

It was a wide, circular room with walls covered in soot and a high, vaulted ceiling covered in burning embers that mirrored the ones on the ground beneath their feet. Burning sconces showered the dimension in orange light and tall shadows danced in the flicker of fire.

In an instant, the heat was intolerable and Keigo was panting feeling a thick layer of sweat form over his skin. Touma started toward the center of his dimension to a stone fire pit, a round structure of sturdy bricks situated in the middle of a spherical, five-inch platform built of the same material but the foundation was cracked and weathered down by time and large concentrations of energy.

Keigo stepped over the stone squares leading to the platform, wondering as he looked at the glowing coals if they were the reason his insides were trying to evaporate.

"I'm back," Touma called, his voice bouncing off the walls. "Do something about the temperature, I've brought a visitor and could you please light the center fire?"

A large fire roared to life in the pit and the sconces blew out, one by one, leaving swirling strings of white smoke above the iron structures. The ceiling above their heads rained glowing flecks of ashes followed by a strong burst of cold air that had Keigo crouched by the fire in search of warmth in a matter of seconds.

"What's with the temperature?" asked Keigo, eyes searching for The Devil.

"The fire was turned off," answered Touma, unfazed. "It's a normal drop. Once the heat dissipates, you have the cold."

"You're not sweating!"

Touma met his gaze and laughed. "Ha, you're drenched. That's so gross."

"Why aren't you sweating?" yelled Keigo, insulted. "It was like an oven in here and you're okay!"

He shrugged shamelessly. "I'm used to it."

Keigo needed to get used to the strangeness surrounding the Arcana because he was starting to feel stupid. He put his hands on his knees and stared into the vibrant flames as Touma paced around the platform.

Touma paused in front of a sleek black wall and smiled.

And that's when the wall blinked. Keigo stared wide eyed at the pair of golden orbs watching the redhead. The yellow eyes were accompanied by the emergence of a sharp face and a strong body of black stone until half its human form stuck out before Touma.

'**It has been long.**' The wall man's voice was calm.

"Just a couple years," replied Touma.

It's bright eyes flickered to Keigo. '**You brought The Hanged Man as well.**'

Keigo inclined his head nervously in greeting.

"I'm helping him jog his memory this time." Touma returned to Keigo's side. "I'll talk you through a number of your First Cycle memories using myself as a link and see if they anything happens. We'll gather them and hope it triggers a Domino Effect."

He sat across him with the pit between them.

Keigo felt nervous. "Okay."

Touma's blue eyes met his. "All you have to do is listen, especially if you're remembering something."

He gulped. "Okay."

"Let's get started."

Keigo had no expectations as he entertained the idea of facing the memories, prepared to see them through even if they were as bloody as the one that left him sick and horror-struck at the bar. There was no way around it. He felt that eventually they would be the only thing he had that came close to filling the gap in his chest.

Everything happened far too quickly. He had been human and suddenly he wasn't. The worst part of it all was that being an Arcana meant that he might not have been human at all from the start. He carried on the mark from generations of slumber and it only just recently came to life, burning into his flesh as a reminder. He woke that morning with an itch in his right ankle and found bright red, irritated skin. Every step he took reminded him of it and how there was nothing he could do to stop it.

This wasn't a cold that would go away with medicine or a bruise that might fade in days, the reddened flesh of his ankle and the curse on his soul only lifted one way. He wasn't ready to die.

"We met in an orchard of sorts," started Touma lowly, staring deep into the fire, flames reflected in his eyes. "Midafternoon, the sun was setting and the world was highlighted by warm colors, the trees were swaying and you ran out from between the cherry trees and into my sister with a puppy chasing close behind."

Keigo listened, felt nothing, and tried keeping his eyes to the black ground.

"You fell on Nagisa's basket, crushing the oranges and berries. Whatever survived was lapped up by your undomesticated pup. I think you called her Jo." Touma looked up to him. "Any of this helping?"

"No."

He frowned deeply. "Well then, let's try something a bit…traumatic."

"Why?"

"Kosuda jogged your memory but your beloved Jo didn't, I'm concerned myself," said Touma, taken aback. "Maybe you are a cynic. Okay, let's continue with something less agreeable…hmm."

It took him a second's silence to find something appropriate to say, leaning forward so the flames darkened the sharp angles of his face. The temperature dropped and Keigo could see his breath.

Touma started to speak lowly, in a voice unlike his own, about the horrors the previous Hanged Man hosts experienced and finally, the life he lived before being reborn into the current cycle. They were stories of blood and madness and sacrifice, of worlds full of unfairness and betrayal that unnerved him. The emotions tightened around his lungs leaving him cold and breathless. He wondered how long it had been since The Devil started to speak before the real emptiness took root in his chest and spread through his bloodstream to fill him with exhaustion.

But none of his stories caused a reaction. They were fictitious tales documenting the ugliest of lives, depictions far from his scope of reality. The longer Touma went on to describe the events, going to great lengths to describe the most disturbing scenarios, the more Keigo realized he wanted him to stop talking.

Unconsciously, his palms went to his ears. He sat in the fetal position before the blazing pit quivering, not so much for the freezing temperature than the ideas circling his mind. He held the side of his head, leaning forward as he imagined a dozen faceless people executed in cold blood. Touma's recollections unleashed themselves like a movie in his head, vivid in color. He could see the happiness of all these strangers burn away as quickly as paper, leaving only white ash that fluttered around them like snow.

It needed to stop.

There was so much blood.

Keigo's breathing thinned, his airways constricted.

"I remember the first person you killed," Touma continued ominously. "You hadn't slept in forty hours as part of the experiment, but I think you were so deprived because, like everyone else, you felt that if you gave into sleep you might never wake up to see the people you left behind. Your opponent was someone conditioned to become my brother's vice-captain, he was strong, three-times your size, a complete beast. He reached a level only a few others had and he hadn't died yet. He was valuable and you lost value. It was our superiors' way of disposing of the weak without it looking like they were."

He lifted his eyes, wide and glassy, and met with The Devil's powerful gaze.

"You were the first example of this, so they gathered everyone left. There were only sixty-seven left out of three hundred in a stretch of eighteen weeks. That beast of a man was so full of himself he spent the last three weeks spreading around his arrogance. Without a doubt, his progress in the training area had been impressive. Everyone thought you were toast. Nobody could and would save you from this, but you proved them wrong."

He gulped.

"Forty hours of sleep deprivation, a heavy heart, undeveloped Arcana abilities, yet you picked up your sword no matter how many thousands times necessary and you cut him open from shoulder to hip with the stealth of a true Onmitsukidō. You bathed the platform in blood," said Touma, reaching into the flames to gather flecks of glowing ash and played with them. There were no burns on his hands. "Did you know you hesitated?"

Keigo remembered to breathe, shuddering deeply.

"You hesitated every time you struck back. Even if he was a pompous ass, he was once a shinigami too, you were once comrades on opposite sides of the battlefield, but he was like you too. You saw this. You were just as hopeful that someone would realize the inhumanity and fight for us." Touma let the ashes flutter from one palm to the next. "You were the first one to kill a pre-Arcana."

Knots twisted in his stomach as Keigo found his voice. "Can we stop?"

Touma blinked. "Stop?"

"I don't—" He choked on his words, unable to proffer a reason, and scrambled onto his feet. "I just don't—"

The Devil looked perfectly calm. "You're having a natural reaction. Even if you don't have the memory, you are feeling something. You have been for quite a while."

"You don't—"

"Your spiritual energy has been fluctuating, going through various wavelengths with every new story I begin. I don't need to be psychic." Touma clapped his hands together to clean them. "Sit down, breathe in, count to sixteen, and breathe out slowly."

"I don't want to remember anything!" snapped Keigo, feeling every bottled up emotion spill. "I don't want to be like you or Wakatsuki-san or Nagata-san! I want to go home. I don't care if my life is interesting or not! I just want it to be normal! I want to be with my family and just forget this ever happened."

Touma watched him with intrigue, listened until he finished his tirade before speaking. "Then stay with us."

"It makes no difference! You said we were dead either way! I can't go and I can't stay, I'll be dead."

"Stay with us," he repeated. "Believe in Nagisa. Believe that she knows exactly what she's doing even when you think it's the stupidest idea you have ever heard. Believe in her."

"She's Soul Society's enemy. Ichigo will have to—"

"Ichigo's decision has already been made, long before he realized she was his enemy. You can side with him and be done with it, but Soul Society won't treat you any different for being affiliated to their Golden Boy." The sarcasm in his voice made him sound every bit like Nagata. "Once the war ends, your head goes on the chopping block."

"Ichigo won't let that happen!"

"He won't, but can you guarantee he can stop it?"

Keigo flushed. "He will!"

"This blind faith condemned you once for trusting the wrong person; put your faith in someone with the resolve and strength to save you." Touma rose to his feet, dusting off his jeans. "If you can't trust Nagisa, trust me. I won't lie to you or betray you." He whirled away, waving his hand as he beckoned an exit. "Open a gate."

The entrance reappeared across the dark stone pathway, embers glowing brighter. Keigo stood on the platform as the fire pit went out with Touma's exit and the temperature slowly started to steam, turning the cold in his flesh to beads of sweat. He always imagined the line between lie and betrayal was blurred, but the conviction in Touma's voice as he asked him to put his faith on him left an impression in him. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he felt that hadn't been the first time Touma had made him the same suggestion, but thinking of it put an extra weight on his back.

Staying with Ichigo, trusting Ichigo blindly—it was second nature. Ichigo was unbelievably strong and he could do anything he set his mind to. If he made you a promise, he would go out of his way to keep it. So when Ichigo assured him that he and Tatsuki would return home safely, he believed him more than when Haruka had said the same. But Touma wasn't wrong when said that even if Ichigo protected him until the end of the war, nobody would save him afterward.

The reality playing in his head would stay fresh in his mind for hours, perhaps days.

A voice shook him.

'**The boy doesn't lie.**'

Keigo whirled around to the molted man emerging from the wall, skin as black as coal, yellow eyes gleaming. He looked toward the entrance, but Touma was gone, and returned his eyes to the strange creature, heart pounding wildly. He said nothing because he couldn't find the words.

'**Many centuries ago, you entrusted him with a blade and taught him to wield it, not for destruction like Enishi or power like Yamato or even peace like Nagisa, but for the protection of those he might one day have to leave behind. He holds you in high esteem Hanged Man, you were the first to trust he could be strong and strong he became.**'

He walked back slowly, not processing a word spoken as the golden eyes blinked at him and the body melded into the wall once more.

**'Go, the gate remains open.**'

Keigo practically scrambled out the entrance to the familiar apartment setting and the sound of Touma rummaging through the kitchen. He was regarded shortly before The Devil continued pulling ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards.

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"You sure?"

He nodded slowly, picking up one of the squared lamps from the ground where they lined them up as they cleared them out earlier. He glanced at the clock as he set it on a squared table. Four hours passed since they entered the room full of embers, yet it felt like it breezed by.

Although he tried not to think about it, the bloody images still flickered in and out of his mind, reminding him that he hadn't been dreaming. He wished it had been a dream. He would have given anything to wake up one of those last mornings back in his room, to the posters tacked on the wall and the sound of his sister shouting at him to hurry and get to school.

_I wonder what Mizuho is doing now?_ Truthfully, he wondered what his parents were going through as well. Keigo paused in the center of the room, a sweet aroma from the kitchen filling his nose. It smelled heavenly and he assumed it tasted just like that. He missed Mizuho's bad cooking, even though he complained about it all the time, and hanging out with Mizuiro at school, even if he teased him so much, and watching all the pretty girls in the classroom laugh, though they would never give him the time of day.

It depressed him to envision a life without seeing them again. He had to relinquish his normal, beautiful life for the sake of another he didn't choose. It chose him.

Keigo look at Touma working with a skillet and spatula where he cooked squared pieces of tomato and green onions over cooking oil. He cracked a couple eggs and scrambled them alongside the rest of the ingredients before adding a dash of salt. He finished cooking the dish right before his eyes and served it onto a large bowl.

He took the bowl to the table after picking up a fork.

"Who was that person in there?" asked Keigo, curious.

"In my dimension?"

"Yeah, the one in the wall.'

"My sword."

"He doesn't look like a sword."

"He was my sword; he's what's left of it, I guess," Touma replied, stuffing his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "My zanpakutō spirit. I still have the shikai, but it doesn't work the same without him in the blade. It's not as strong, it doesn't burn as brightly."

"What happened?" asked Keigo curiously.

"We weren't shinigami when we gained our Arcana abilities, so we lost what made us shinigami. We kept the swords as they were in shikai, but they were empty. The voice that guided us once was gone and—"

The fork in Touma's hand clattered on the ground as he jumped to his feet.

Keigo felt a pressure fall on his back and turned his head to the door. Everything blurred in his periphery when he felt The Devil push him around and out the door. He hit the railing hard, the air knocked from his lungs, but when he looked over the ledge the first face that came to view was Wakatsuki Arashi, smirking up at them. Just as quickly as he hit the wall, Touma grabbed him by the back of the shirt and sent him down the hall before he had a chance to form words.

Ichigo's father stood at the end of the hall and behind them was a dark skinned woman with golden eyes.

"Surrender, Touma," called Arashi calmly. "I promise to kill you quickly if you do."

They were stuck in the middle without escape. Touma moved close, their shoulders touching.

"Whether you like it or not, you need to dodge—think of your room, of something familiar, and reach for it," he whispered. "Reach for it and when you feel a pull, let it take you. That's how you dodge. Do it."

"Kill him!" ordered Arashi.

Ichigo's dad and the unfamiliar woman were closing in on them, but the next thing Keigo knew, he had fallen over the ledge and the ground was coming to meet him quickly. The frightened scream erupted from his throat, but in the midst of his panic, Touma's words returned to him and he imagined his bedroom as vividly as possible. Its familiar yellow walls, the colorful posters plastered everywhere, his messy desk and partly open closet, and finally the bed sitting in the far left. He reached for it, arm outstretched as the clamor all around him disappeared, and it pulled. Something grabbed him and tugged at him.

Keigo landed on the ground with a grunt, body trembling and eyes squeezed shut. It didn't hurt as much as he expected nor did it smell or feel like the flowerbeds aligning the building. He couldn't hear everyone's voices anymore or sense the pressure on his back.

He opened his eyes to vanishing lines of black smoke and yellow walls. Slowly, he pushed his body off the ground to see colorful posters and a stack of fresh laundry sitting on a bed to his far left.

He felt lighthearted, but thrilled when the door slammed open, startling him. He jerked back at the sight of Mizuho, pale faced and astonished with disheveled brown hair that made her look like a lunatic.

"Keigo?" she called in her disbelief.

His eyes were glassy and a part of him expected her to strike him for all the time he was gone. He stood, looking as panicked and amazed as she probably felt, and waited for her to hit him. She strode toward him and he flinched, but she grabbed him by the shoulders and drew him into a hug.

"Where the hell have you been?" she shouted in his ear.

Keigo shook his head and accepted the embrace. He needed it more than anything, but as she pulled away to inspect his face, he felt a bitterness fill his mouth. Touma remained in his mind and the glaring looks he received from Ichigo's father and the woman brought on an overpowering sense of dread. The sound of Arashi's voice echoed in his head as it ordered for The Devil's death.

"I'll call mom and dad, they've been worried sick and—" Mizuho paused at the doorway, looking suspiciously. "How did you get in without me noticing?"

He pushed past her in a rush, searching his pockets for the phone he received from Nagata earlier that morning. "I'll explain everything later. I need to find Ichigo and Wakatsuki!"

"What?" snapped Mizuho, stomping after him. "You just—what the hell is going on Keigo?"

When he reached the door, his sister forced him to turn but her grip loosened immediately as she looked up into his face. He touched the doorknob, opening the front door.

"What?" he asked, befuddled.

Mizuho dropped her hand back to her side and started backward, pointing at him. "Why is your eye yellow?"

Keigo reached to his eye, not knowing which, as if he could feel the color on his fingertips and his stomach churned. He had seen Haruka and Nagata with golden eyes before and they explained it was an Arcana trait.

She looked horrified. "What happened to you?"

"I'll explain later," he said, panicked. All he knew was that Touma needed help. He had to say something. "I promise."

He was gone instantly, not through the door but in a cloud of black smoke.

* * *

**beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl note**: Despite my internet shutting off five times in preparation of this chapter, know I stayed on to post. Many thanks to **ruler of dragons** for reviewing the previous chapter! Look forward to the final installation of "Stories of Betrayal" on the 4th!


	31. Stories of Betrayal Pt 10

**Chapter Thirty**, "Stories of Betrayal" – Part Ten

Save the Prince

Ichigo growled in frustration, glaring loathingly at his Hollow.

"**I didn't think we'd make it, King**," remarked his mirror image, shooting a glance to the girl beside her. "**She's a clumsy one.**"

"Take that back, I work hard," she deadpanned, picking at her cuticles.

"What did you do?" Ichigo demanded, straining his body forward. His muscles ached and bones creaked strangely. Everything hurt. "What happened to me?"

Haruka looked from Ichigo to his Hollow, face brimming in confusion. "I don't like that you look alike."

"We don't look the same!" Ichigo rebuked. "Do something!"

"Uhm, okay," she said lightly, casting a sidelong glance at his Hollow, then to Ichigo, waving him off. "Well, you go find my zanpakutō, bring her back and I'll—"

Ichigo spotted the pixie staring wondrously from the edge of the forest. He took a single step toward her when he felt his knees give out and his body slam into the floor. As expected, every bone in his body had turned to jelly, weakened under the severe intake of black energy he absorbed within the barrier.

His Hollow snorted. "**As weak as ever, eh?**"

"That was uncalled for." Haruka pushed Ichigo onto his back as quickly as he had dropped. She jumped onto her feet, abashed with hands clenched tight, "This might hurt…"

He hated the sound of that and knew from the moment she knocked him unconscious that it could only get worse. She delivered the blow swiftly, a hard kick across his head. Darkness enveloped him, smothering, but it was smooth like floating over a calm sea.

.

.

Ichigo regained consciousness to the sound of Haruka's soft tenured elucidations and the sight of the girl addressing his Hollow, both surrounded in a strangely peaceful ambience. He observed them for a moment, out of pure curiosity, highly disturbed by the unlikely pair. His reenergized physical condition called back his attention belatedly when he slid his arm over the grass, feeling it stronger.

"**You've got some weird energy in you**," commented the Hollow, observing Haruka with a suspicious edge. He flexed his sword arm, swinging the towering blade over his head and in front of it, smashing it straight into the ground. He laughed lowly; the strength behind his swing had multiplied.

"It's not weird," she remarked aloofly, "it's pure, untainted energy. It's better than yours."

Ichigo felt the quiver of the earth beneath him, but shrouded in the awareness of his power in perfect harmony with hers. He recognized he was not as strong as before, in fact, he likened his current spiritual inclination to his years as a preteen when it simply existed with limitless potential, but remained unrefined.

Haruka made eye contact. "Sorry about kicking you in the face. The Arcana are a bit on the unconventional side of things," she said, unabashed, "that includes healing. I can't rehabilitate the body without first inflicting pain. Regrettably, your injuries required that treatment in contrast to my usual methods."

He rose to his feet, feeling perfectly healthy. "Usual methods?"

"Healing kidō," she deadpanned, wiggling her fingers suspiciously. "What'd you think I meant?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That thing with your hands."

"I like the look on your face," she mused, thrusting a thumb in the direction of his Hollow. "He doesn't have the same reaction."

His Hollow burst into a low, grumbled laugh. "**Found yourself a winner there, King.**"

Ichigo frowned disapprovingly, preparing a rebuttal when Haruka beat him to the punch with a threat.

"I can put you back into him, you know," she threatened, as her zanpakutō came into sight. "I can have you sealed by a thousand barriers in an instant and you won't ever see the light of day again."

He glowered.

"I'll dare."

"**Pure arrogance**."

"You're no different," she snipped, rising from her seat upon a flat stone. "We should start. I suspect our time is thinning out. Enishi works quickly."

Out of thin air, his Hollow materialized a second Zangetsu, twisted it around in his hand and tossed it in Ichigo's direction. Ichigo caught it over his head by the hilt; the unsuspecting weight of it weakened his grasp. The giant sword smashed into the grassy field below him, the earth shuddered under his feet. He lifted inquiring eyes to the trio searching for answers in their expressions but was greeted by Haruka and her pixie's aloofness eclipsed by the maniac smirk on his Hollow's face.

He questioned the weight of his sword. It never took a struggle to pick it up before. It never felt foreign in his hands. He did not want to give up without putting in every inch of effort he could afford as he gripped Zangetsu's hilt and attempted to lift it, feeling every muscle in his body tighten and a pressure materialize in his core.

"As you can see, Zangetsu is no longer your sword," started Haruka, drawing his attention instantly.

"What are you talking about?" he snapped, feeling mildly outraged at the thought. "What do you mean Zangetsu's not mine?"

Haruka scratched the back of her head thoughtfully, streaming nicer synonyms through her mind to replace the nastiness contained in the spot-on explanation. There was always a better way to describe the drawbacks of a parent's honesty, not that she wanted to questions Isshin's reasons for keeping the secret from Ichigo, although she did give him major kudos for filling him in on the fact that using Mugetsu would cost him his career as substitute shinigami. He probably refused to divulge the rest of it in fear of scaring him off the idea of a severed bond that carried along with it semi-permanent ramifications and nearly put him in the same plane as the Arcana with the exception of shikai and bankai.

"**You severed the bond**," blurted the Hollow, dripping of venom.

"I lost my powers, I didn't—"

"No, he's right," said Haruka lightly and cleared her throat, "and it was a big middle finger to the bond you once weaved with your zanpakutō which is like my situation except worse. I may have no prior recollection to the bond I made with my zanpakutō's spirit, my transition to the Arcana did nothing to it, whereas Mugetsu not only drained you of your spiritual inclination, but tore a big hole through the structure that held you and Zangetsu together. Even if you did have your powers returned to you by some other method, you'd have no zanpakutō to wield."

Haruka circled him, folding her arms over her chest, taking his shock into account. "Zangetsu and your Hollow were aware of it, but they probably forgot about it and Isshin-san worried about your reaction, so chose it might have been best for you to stay in the dark as it was expected that you would live a normal, unhindered life. You worked hard enough to have earned it."

She paused. "You need to repair the bond and restore your spiritual energy to its peak simultaneously," she finished. "Your Hollow is your final connection to Zangetsu, so you sort it out together."

His Hollow merely smirked. He ignored his gloating and faced her.

"How's that going to work?" he asked, then proceeded to clarify. "Restoring my spiritual pressure."

"My spiritual energy will help with that," she answered. "It already created a new area in which to amass it, as you destroyed your own, and once you regain your own, you'll dispel my black energy. It's healthier that way."

"How do I do it?" His voice was eager. He could taste normalcy returning to his life.

"You fight with Zangetsu in your hands against your last standing bond." She gestured to the blade stabbed into the ground and then to the Hollow. "Once Zangetsu recognizes your spiritual energy and your efforts, he should be able to repair the severed bond and you can go back to being a happy trio. Until then, you continue fighting with your Hollow with the heavy sword. It should become easier with time, but you should consider adding several exercises in between and there is a great natatorium we could break into once En and Touma come back—I mentioned this before—"

"What is it with you breaking in?" he cried, amazed she snuck that in.

"Swimming is a great training exercise. Water is great for your muscles."

"That doesn't answer the question!"

"Crocodiles, Ichigo, crocodiles," she replied easily. "There's your answer. It will always be your answer."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"You don't make sense, Ichigo," she argued. "You're the eighth wonder of the world."

Ichigo stared at her skeptically.

"Okay, I should keep this going," she decided after a brief glance at his impatient Hollow. "The only way I know to revitalize your energy reserves is by honoring a blood contract."

He arched an eyebrow. "Blood contract?"

"Basically, the more blood you spill, the longer you survive, and the more spiritual particles you absorb, meaning a steady flow of spiritual energy gathered by my reserves will aid it as it reaches yours and restores your original power," she explained knowledgably. "If and when you reach death, you will be at your peak."

"Death again?"

"He's an associate. Tall, blond, a tad Scandinavian? I think you've met."

"Damnit Haruka, that's not what I meant."

"What did you expect? Arcana methods are rarely sunshine and butterflies. Take the Priestess' healing abilities; you can't take someone's pain without first inflicting it on them. It's a horrible, repetitive cycle of life and death, a constant reminder that you earn what you own and are not rewarded by a wish-granting fairy, there are no shortcuts."

He assumed she was the fairy in the analogy and sighed.

"**Let's cut to the chase**."

When Ichigo returned his eyes to his Hollow, the pale face was directly in front of him lifting the sword over his head. The Hollow swung it across him without remorse. The shadow of the blade split across Ichigo's face, growing as its edge glinted in the thin sheen of sunlight. He fell back, abandoning his zanpakutō and stumbled out of its trajectory. His Hollow's sword split the ground where he once stood, causing a rumble in the earth.

Haruka disappeared in a wisp of black swirls, reappearing miles away holding her zanpakutō spirit in her arms.

Ichigo ducked another swing. He spared another glance at Haruka, inquiringly, and she responded with a shrug of her shoulders. It seemed he had no choice but to follow the rules set by the two. Fighting with his final standing bond and shedding blood to restore his spiritual energy, it sounded nothing like the words he wanted to hear. Although, he was never sure what those might sound like. Would it have been easier and quicker?

_Arcana methods_, he remembered, rolling across the bumpy earth that sat near the pond and forest. His Hollow relentlessly pursued him, but even then, he realized he was not fighting him seriously. In fact, he was toying with him, making a mockery of him. Proving that in their current situation, he was the strongest link and that he could easily make true to his promise. He held the power in his hands. The Hollow could easily take over him and make him into the same monster that wounded Ishida, endangered Orihime and defeated Ulquiorra.

Ichigo's thoughts betrayed him and expressed the fear in his eyes. He felt it stifling in the air, a dark cluster of terror tightening in his chest and corroding all the goodness left. And his Hollow fed off this feeling of helplessness, of panic, of every weakness in his persona and emerged stronger, harder hitting—an unstoppable force.

"**You better pick up that sword before I kill you!**" suggested his Hollow.

Ichigo swallowed hard, scrambling off the ground and into a spring towards the heavy blade. The Hollow roared in laughter, tearing after him. The bumps in the uneven field caused him numerous trips along the way, but it was short lived, he regained immediate balance. If he fell, the chance of avoiding another hit was disastrous.

He could already feel the sleek metal digging into his flesh before it actually did, slashed across his back, tearing through his clothes and splitting his skin in half.

He fell into the ground face first, his sword only a meter away. Pain bloomed across his back, stinging like fresh poison. He groaned, gritting his teeth as the ache seeped in, and struggled onto his hands and knees. A shadow fell across him.

"**You've gotten slow**," he remarked. "**Now, get up and pick up your sword.**"

Ichigo sucked in a breath, struggling onto his feet. He whirled around to face his Hollow, staring down at him with distaste, and staggered to the sword. He wrapped both hands over the hilt and gave it a hard tug, but it remained stabbed into the ground. Its weight seemed to have increased tenfold. Either that or his weakness was accountable. He felt it was the latter.

"**Put your back into it!**" His Hollow roared in laughter.

"Shut up!" Ichigo snapped, tightening his grip as he positioned his legs to carry the full weight of the blade. The slash across his back stung painfully with the strain, pouring out in warm blood that soaked into his shirt. It barely budged. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"

His hands slid off and his back slammed into the ground. Everything blurred before his eyes, corners darkened alongside the blinding pain.

"**He can't handle it! Deal's off!**" shouted his Hollow.

Ichigo forced his way back to consciousness. "W-What?"

"Postponed," answered Haruka loudly. "Stay here! I'll bring him back after outside training. Ichigo, we have to go."

The Hollow scoffed, stepping out of his periphery.

Haruka appeared, looking grim. She pushed him onto his stomach. "Touma and Asano-san are trouble," she said lowly. "En is still in Soul Society and the rest of Death's Army is scattered, it's either us or they die."

The news sank in quickly, but it took him a whole minute to react accordingly. He nearly intervened in the healing process. She pushed him back to the ground with a heavy hand.

"Keigo?"

"I can't heal if you move."

Ichigo cringed. "You're pinning me down pretty hard here."

"**This your zanpakutō?**" called the Hollow.

"Don't touch her," remarked Haruka, barely lifting her head in regard.

"**Looks weak**."

"I won't say tell you twice."

Ichigo felt the wound closing within the span of the conversation and opened his bleary eyes to the sight of his Hollow flicking the tiny pixie's forehead. The silvery-eyed girl cringed. He sat up, rubbing the blur from his eyes.

"Would you stop that?" shouted Ichigo.

The pixie slapped his Hollow's hand out of the way when he tried again.

Haruka lifted Ichigo back onto his feet, facing her zanpakutō spirit. "Door please!"

Her zanpakutō spirit snapped her fingers and the white gateway appeared before them. She pulled him inside and once more, they appeared between the alleys of twin buildings. Haruka lifted her eyes to the sky.

Ichigo sensed them belatedly and looked up. His stomach plummeted at the sight of the world's most disturbing pair.

Haruka followed Ichigo's gaze to a bloodied Nagata and Aizen, both carried a pair of unconscious Arcana. Aizen was a shadow of his former self, his face had grown thinner and sharper and his brown eyes were dark and judging. He no longer resembled the confident psychopath that turned Hueco Mundo into his base of operations and its inhabitants into his army. The only look he offered Ichigo was of curiosity. It amazed him.

"Yo." Nagata waved lazily. He took the blond, reinstated captain by the back of the haori and tossed him directly over them. "Brought a couple souvenirs."

"Hey!" protested Haruka, ducking out of sight.

Ichigo rushed forward to soften his fall. Hirako Shinji's head lolled awkwardly and his body felt heavy in his arms, the weight of the dead. His face snapped to Nagata and finally to Haruka, demanding answers.

"He's dead," she deadpanned.

"I know he's dead!" he rebuked, setting the captain against the wall. "Why is he dead?"

Ichigo managed a moment of peace before he realized Tatsuki's body was dropped, he left Shinji on the ground hastily and headed to the growing shadow. He caught her with ease. She sagged in his arms, head falling back, but she was breathing. That alone cast away the mountain of worries he aggregated within Haruka's dimension concerning his friend.

"Do something about them, you're the boss." Nagata's eyes were fixed on his sister, a silent storm brewing in his eyes. "I can get your cub back." He glanced in Aizen's direction. "You in?"

Aizen gave a curt nod, looking skeptical. "I suppose."

"I'm starting to like this one, we should keep him."

He took a step back, prepared to dodge alongside Aizen with a wide grin on his face when Haruka piped up. "Should I heal you?"

Nagata glanced back. "That's fine," he said. "The Gotei 13 is a bigger threat than Yamato and his fools."

The two disappeared in a twist of black smoke. It lingered above their heads before a strong wind blew it out of sight.

Haruka rubbed her wrists as she approached Hirako, crouching down in front of him and dropped her hands to his neck. Her gaze fell and lips parted as she rested her elbows over her knees with her cheek in her palm, looking away. A sigh escaped her.

"What is it?" asked Ichigo, peering over her shoulder.

"I had forgotten my brother is an idiot."

"Did you just make that connection?" he said incredulously.

"No," she said lowly, "no, I think I always knew." She rose to her feet, grabbing hold of Hirako's arm. "I need to move him to a safer location where I can erect a barrier as he completes his transition."

"What about Tatsuki?"

"I suggest we tie her up."

"_What?_"

"I imagined my death to be anything but a savage murder," she said with a strain in her voice as she leaned him forward to slip her hands under his arms. She lifted her eyes to his incredulity. "I know I shouldn't ask for the impossible, but something with a touch of poetry might make it worthwhile. That friend of yours has a personal vendetta to settle against me and En, more now that she has reawakened to her Arcana. And you know as well as I do that Arisawa-san isn't the sort of person you want holding a grudge against you."

"When did she awaken?" he demanded.

"In Soul Society, I'm trying to figure it out myself," she admitted, turning around to heave Hirako's full weight on her back. He stared at her amazed at how easy it was for her to carry a man twice her weight. She extended her hand to him. "Hold on."

Ichigo took her hand and they vanished.

* * *

**Beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl note**: This is my last written chapter. I'm actively working on 31, so let's cross our fingers for another November release! :) Shout outs to my reviewers last chapter, **reality deviant** and **animelover56348**. Sorry if I don't reply to anyone properly right away, I've had a bit of a family emergency that's being dealt with as we speak.

Despite it all, I'm happy to have made it to the 30th chapter. Many thanks for accompanying me here! :) And hopefully it isn't so shocking a revelation to say we are about to hit the conclusion of Part 1 of this series, things should heat up next chapter and continue escalating from there. :) I hope to see you there. Oh, and finally some romance, or at least Haruka's twisted idea of romance.

Thank you for reading. :)


	32. King Candidate

**Chapter Thirty One**,"King Candidate"

Touma's first instinct was to dodge in the midst of his panic. The further from the enemy they were the better. Nagisa entrusted Keigo's safety to him and the last thing he wanted was to allow harm to come to him. He felt heavyhearted faced with three captain level beings knowing a boy of Keigo's caliber would not withstand a minute without becoming Yamato's immediate target. It didn't help a bit to know that he couldn't dodge.

Pushing him from the second floor was his last resort. Touma could only trust that Keigo's memories would allow him to dodge instinctively. Seeing it happen, overwhelmed him with relief. He was safely out of danger, but the audacious grin on Yamato's face unnerved him.

"Sending him away won't make a difference," Yamato announced, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose it might if you plan to stay alive."

Touma glimpsed from one end to the next, both Kurosaki Isshin and Shihōin Yoruichi looked hesitant. He turned back to Yamato, leaning over the railing, irritated. "You're playing dirty!" he accused, jumping over the ledge. He landed safely and cut through the grass to the empty street. He whirled around, still running. "This is why nobody likes you!"

He felt the weight of his brother's reiatsu cut through the air with the swing of a monstrous black hammer, its gargantuan shadow falling across his back. He must have summoned it mid-swing. Touma sped up to duck under the powerful swing, feeling the sheer force of spiritual pressure cut against his back. He stumbled face first into the asphalt as the sound of the flat end of the wide hammer made contact with Kazumasa's building, demolishing it where it stood.

Touma scrambled onto his feet, palms stinging with fresh scrapes. The sound of glass shattering over the ground was distant, though close enough for the wind to carry shards that cut thin lines across his skin as Yamato uncorked the monstrous double-edged war hammer from the deteriorating wall. He turned as chunks of concrete slammed into the asphalt, making the ground tremble. Looking at the unfazed look in his brother's eyes, destruction was imminent.

There might not have been people in Kazumasa's building, but the same couldn't be said about neighboring buildings and shopping centers surrounding it. The congested city wouldn't stand a chance and he wouldn't have all those deaths on his conscious. By the looks in Yamato's companions faces, they felt the same from the amount of attention the fallen building garnered from shoppers and clerks a street away, each person slowly spotting them in the center of destruction.

_I take it back,_ Touma thought, wiping the blood on his jeans. He watched the second floor cave under the weight of the wreckage. _That's why nobody likes him_.

"Why don't you make this easier for me?" Yamato asked, closing the distance between them. "You can't fight because Nagisa _ordered_ you not to and you know running can only get you so far. Nagisa is with Kurosaki, Enishi is in Soul Society, and your last hope was an unawakened brat you sent away the first chance you got. Face it, nobody's going to save you."

"We shouldn't be fighting here!" Isshin yelled.

"We shouldn't be fighting at all!" Touma interjected. "Why are you siding with someone like him? He'll eradicate the entire nation if it meant accomplishing his goal!"

Isshin and Yoruichi stared at him skeptically.

"I wouldn't go as far as calling this fighting when he can't fight," Yamato said belatedly, allowing his hammer to vanish in a cloud of swirling smoke.

As Yamato turned to regard his companions with a grin, Touma envisioned a wide wasteland in which to dodge into and he was there as soon as he blinked. He stumbled across the uneven planes, forcing the tingling of his legs to calm as he fell into a sprint. He destroyed the Arcana tracking device the time he intervened with his brother's fight against Kurosaki Senior, the Hat Man and Cat Woman, so there was no reason why he should feel uneasy. However, Nagisa's awakening gave him the ability to sense the others, how sure could he be that Yamato couldn't do the same.

Touma cast about a hundred looks behind, knowing that Yamato's hammer wasn't just a weapon he swung around and that he wasn't nearly as patient as Nagisa. It wouldn't be smart to think he was safe. It wouldn't be long before Yamato tracked him down and attacked him head on.

Touma halted after half an hour of running simultaneously ensuring he was as far away from the human populace as possible, and spent the next couple of minutes regaining his breath. He closed his eyes, straightening up with both hands on his sides. The air was growing thinner.

He focused on trying to catch hint of nearby Arcana energy. Nagisa and Ichigo were together elsewhere, outside her dimension, which meant the training ended in failure or Enishi returned from Soul Society. He felt two energies with them: the Chariot and…

"The Fortune." He opened his eyes. The realization was harder for him to stomach than he thought possible. "Our Fortune died."

He didn't care about Ozaki Miho. He only met her once and in the minute it took for them to exchange names, she never took her eyes from her cellphone screen. She was just the Texting Girl and it was that stupid nickname that it made him feel like the worst human being alive. He could only imagine what Nagisa went through after experiencing her death. She told him wearing the crown meant she endured the same pain as her subjects. And so, because she was the only person in the world capable of undertaking that weight, no one would ever wear her crown.

Touma's minute of peace blew away when something hard slammed hard against him, sending him flying across the empty planes. He bounced off the ground three times, hitting himself harder each time, before twisting his body around to push his body off the next stretch of land. He flipped back and onto his feet, skidding back in time to catch Yoruichi's fist. The fresh, stinging scrapes had ruptured his skin from the violent swing of his brother's hammer. He hit his head hard enough to see stars dancing around the woman's fluttering purple hair.

Yoruichi jerked her free hand back and swung at his head. He ducked, hearing Isshin shout a warning and Yoruichi jumped off her feet with a twist doing a minute long handstand. He dropped his hold on her upon sight of the black crescent blast ripping through the ground and air. Yoruichi was immediately out of its trajectory and he had only one choice.

A second before the blast hit, he combined his ability to sense and a thread of his power to create a sphere around him. The destruction reigned on past the sphere; the exterior heat propagated and dissolved the full brunt of the blast. He dodged out of the sphere as it started to crack under the spiritual pressure and reappeared above to gauge the damage.

It looked as though someone had taken a gigantic knife and carved out the earth. He only had seconds to breathe.

"Above!" shouted Yoruichi.

Yamato was the first to jump into the sky pulling his enormous hammer back and swinging so hard he heard the wind whistling. Touma felt the air pressure change and his body stiffened as the black surface of the hammer gleamed a dangerous red light.

"Shit," he cursed, shutting his eyes tightly. _This is going to hurt._

The hammer hit harder than the first time. His insides turned to mush as his body shot from the sky and drove straight into the ground. Touma was buried under the rubble of Kurosaki Isshin's Getsuga Tensho and he couldn't breathe. There were several broken bones in his body and a rib he imagined punctured a lung.

"He's not dead," announced Yamato. "Not yet, but he's wounded."

Touma struggled to push the heavy rocks from his body. He strained his arms and legs and hoisted his body into a seat before he burst through the surface. He forced a second arm and gripped the edges, pulling his body out from under the ground. Dirt and rocks drizzled from his body as he lurched forward, wiggling free. He was wheezing and only had enough energy to dodge to safety or create another sphere to protect himself, but beyond that, he would surely die.

"How pitiful," started Yamato, his footsteps coming closer, "to be the biggest threat in our Arcana and be the weakest link all at once."

Yamato pointed the sharp end of a sword to his throat, forcing their eyes to meet. Touma flinched, feeling the tip poke into his flesh. A drop of blood slid down his neck and out of sight behind his ragged clothes.

"You think Nagisa did you a favor by treating you this way?" he continued. "You're just a child in her eyes."

Touma stared at him horror-struck, heart gripping.

"You won't ever be like Enishi and she won't see you as someone reliable." Yamato's face contorted into a dark smile. "So what if she trusted you with the Hanged Man's training? So what if you know the plan? So what if you feel comfortable at her side? So what if you're older again and stronger? Don't fool yourself. The first chance she can, she'll throw you back in the Hermit's cage."

Touma averted his eyes, blinding himself to the truth. He wanted to be as big a part in the Arcana as them, but she never allowed it. He promised her victory, but she wouldn't take it. She swore that his safety is more important but he doesn't understand it. Touma knew that as soon as the danger levels rose, he would return to Ageha's dimension to watch the plan unfold from there. He just wanted to think this time would be different. Nagisa could see that he changed and that he's ready to take on a host of forty thousand men and obliterate them just as quickly as Enishi.

He wanted things to be different.

They were supposed to be.

He could help. Why couldn't he?

Why was he supposed to sit there and watch as they were slaughtered? Why should he endure that type of pain time and again?

"I am seldom kind," said Yamato, moving his sword far to the side as Touma's head hung low. "You are my brother and the only wrong you have committed against me was not accepting my hand when I needed someone strong. I acknowledge your desire to protect Nagisa and the remaining good in the family, but we are irreparably broken."

_Why can't I be enough?_

Touma felt his lungs ache with every haggard breath. His nose was clogged with blood and he couldn't bear to open his eyes. He didn't want to see his brother's face. He was afraid of seeing a smile.

"I promise you peace in oblivion."

He filled his mind of all the memories he had of his brothers and sister together in perfect peace and happiness. They had been happiest together. How did things get so broken?

If he had any regret, it was not knowing why.

Touma sucked in the breath he knew would be his last.

* * *

"What are we supposed to do?" snapped Ichigo.

Haruka repaired the damage done to Hirako Shinji's neck and wiped the beads of sweat from her brow. She had engulfed him in a pale barrier with an orange glow that helped with most of the physical healing he required and smoothed his transition to Arcana once more. Tatsuki remained unconscious with her wrists and ankles bound by rope, though he remained unconvinced by her reasoning. Tatsuki wouldn't hurt anyone if said person didn't deserve it and he had told her, numerous times. And all those times, Haruka gave him the same response, "We deserve it."

"I would have liked to have stayed for Hirako's awakening, but I suppose that is asking for too much," Haruka said after silent deliberation. She was growing as cryptic by the hour as he was frustrated. "The Priestess has zeroed in on all our possible locations. It won't be long before she appears here with Ishida Uryu and Inoue Orihime."

"Why are they with her?" demanded Ichigo.

Haruka stepped out of her barrier, reaching into one of her pockets for a neon green hairband she used to fasten her hair into a high ponytail. "I think you underestimate your friend's loyalties," she replied. "Do you think they would leave you behind knowing you had been captured by the Arcana leader?"

Ichigo was silenced. He had nothing to say to that statement given the amount of truth.

"Ageha!"

Her sudden shout startled him. She glimpsed at him before cupping her hands over the side of her mouth to scream "Ageha" that much louder.

"What are you doing?"

"Ageha!" Haruka paced around the tufts of grass in the unfamiliar terrain before pausing to answer him. "I'm calling Ageha."

"Can he hear you?"

"Of course he can, he's not deaf." She continued her walk around the area, calling out his name until her voice started edging on impatient. "AGEHA!"

The Hermit appeared in a turret of black smoke dressed in his usually expensive kimono. He looked healthier than he had the first time they had met in the hospital where Haruka would have died, but his hair was as stark white as he remembered and his eyes burned like amber. The first thing Ageha did was drop to his knee before Haruka, a deep respectful bow. Strands of colorless hair fell from his shoulder in his incline.

"Nagisa-sama." Ageha rose to his feet. "What can I do for you?"

"I won't be able to finish Hirako's awakening and you're the only one I can trust with him, please ensure he awakens properly and keep him safe within your dimension until I deem it is safe outside," she ordered. "Secondly, Ichigo's friends and the Priestess will be appearing in a matter of minutes and I need you to hit me."

Ichigo looked flabbergasted. "What?"

Ageha stood unfazed. "Are you certain?"

"I need you to hit me as hard as you can until I say stop," she said unflinchingly.

Ageha sighed and balled his fists. "As hard as I can?"

"You can't honestly—"

Ichigo was cut short when Ageha punched Haruka across the face. He forced himself between them as the white-haired male tried hitting her once more as she struggled to get back onto her feet. "Stop! Stop this!"

"Ichigo!" shouted Haruka.

Ageha pushed past Ichigo and landed a kick to her ribs that sent her rolling onto her back with a pained gasp. The cheek he had struck had reddened.

What happened after was a blur. Ichigo attempted to shove Ageha out of the way, but he was far stronger than he looked and in an attempt to thwart him, elbowed Ichigo in the nose hard enough to cause an out of control nosebleed. Ageha beat him as harshly as he had Haruka before she called an end to the ordered assault and he apologized repeatedly for his actions.

"It's difficult to disobey an order once issued," he admitted guiltily, heaving an unconscious Hirako onto his back. "Sorry you had to endure it as well."

"Why would you hit her?" yelled Ichigo, wiping his nose. His entire body was screaming with pain.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt so much of it at once and had nothing to compare it to but what he endured when his Hollow was being extracted, but even that was short lived. This throbbing was the sort he assumed he would still feel after three weeks.

"Don't take your anger out on Ageha," Haruka said peacefully. "I ordered him to do it and he listened. He doesn't have a choice."

She looked no different than he did with a bloodied front from a heavy nosebleed and a few scrapes up and down her arms. Her clothes were torn in odd places and she had spent the last few minutes holding her wrists until the flesh looked as though it had been bound by rope for days. It looked as though the rope had cut into her pink flesh.

Ageha bowed his head apologetically and disappeared along with Shinji.

"This is so stupid!"

"No, this is life for us," corrected Haruka, removing the binds from Tatsuki's wrist and ankles, ensuring they were in the same state as her own. She approached Ichigo and gestured for his hands. "People are after us and we have to lie to get by, this is what it has meant to be an Arcana for the last few generations. Besides, it's best your friends find us wounded and running."

Ichigo hesitated as he stretched his hands to her and felt her fingers enclose over his wrist. He felt a sharp pain in each before dropping her hold on him to reveal red rings along them.

As she stepped away, he noticed a wobble in her step before she sunk into a seat next to Tatsuki's body. She took three deep breaths and held her head in her hands. She looked weaker— deteriorating.

"Haruka…are you—"

He crouched down next to her, reaching out to take her hands from her head when he heard someone call his name.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

* * *

The clatter of the blade sounded distant.

Touma opened his eyes to the shade Enishi's towering form cast across his face and the obstructed view of Yamato's distorted face. Beside him was another man, tall and longhaired, with a presence that brought distress from Yoruichi and Isshin. He could only be Aizen Sōsuke.

"I told you this one was off limits," Enishi said, twisting Yamato's wrist until it snapped.

Yamato didn't feel the pain of his broken wrist. "You think he'll last much longer?"

"He'll last longer than you will."

Yamato laughed, twisting his sword around to point it directly at his brother. "Leave Enishi to me!"

In twin bursts of smoke, Enishi and Yamato were gone and Yoruichi and Isshin looked intent on challenging Aizen, who merely smiled at them. The few words exchanged between them were nothing but a distant buzzing in his ears as he dropped on his back.

Touma counted his blessings. Yamato had a point. He wouldn't last long without medical attention. Enishi couldn't provide first aid and he would feel stupid asking Aizen if he knew how to do it, so his best chance had been dying at Yamato's hand to avoid the painful demise.

Except…that wouldn't happen. Enishi saved him. He was saved from a danger he could have easily circumvented if he wasn't under Nagisa's strict orders to stay out of the crossfire. Every wound his body sustained would have normally hit a wall of threaded fire that protected him. Nobody would have gotten closer than a meter to him. None of the three would be standing now and he would return…

Touma opened his bleary eyes to the sight of fighting.

_I don't have a home._

Aizen single handedly immobilized Yoruichi and was in the midst of a one-on-one battle against Kurosaki Isshin, a fight he fought barehanded and with a condescending smile. It seemed the two underestimated him, believing a number of months of imprisonment dampened his physical prowess, but they were stupid. Aizen Sōsuke was the Strength Arcana, and whether they saw it or not, hand-to-hand combat was his specialty by nature despite his preference for illusions.

Enishi on the other hand fared well against Yamato without his axe to parry the gigantic hammer. Enishi prided himself on being stronger, without the need of a weapon, which was part of the reason why Yamato hated him. He could read Yamato's annoyance and Enishi's unimpressed ease.

Neither of the two was fighting seriously.

The second time Touma blinked, he watched Yamato and Isshin hit the ground simultaneously. Enishi and Aizen returned to the uneven ground before his body.

"You put up a fiercer fight when you erased my axe, asshole!" Enishi shouted, turning around to face Touma. "And you, get the fuck out! You plan to die here?"

Touma lifted his body off the ground, hearing the patter of his blood. His body radiated pain, but he pushed through it. He had enough power to dodge into Ageha's dimension and receive immediate aid. It was his thoughts that betrayed him. His feelings had been hurt.

Yamato, Isshin and Yoruichi emerged from their craters heavily wounded and plenty of fight left in them.

"It's not over—"

"It's over you slimy bastard!" interjected Enishi, irritated. "You side with Soul Society, you build your army of traitors and get stronger. Get strong enough to not bore me to death in a fight and maybe then I'll stay long enough to kill you!"

"Once the Magician and Sun awaken, I'll be stronger than—"

"Who said I was done talking, stupid?" snapped Enishi. "Tell your daddy that I broke into his vault in Soul Society and plan to use the rock for the good of our cause." Yamato's eyes bugged out of their sockets, fully aware of the sort of treasure contained in said security vault, but he said nothing in his shock. "And tell him and everyone one else that gives a shit that this is war."

Enishi reached back to place a hand on Touma's shoulder. "You should have thought twice about targeting Touma," he continued. "Nagisa would have given you time when instead you're getting thirteen days. In thirteen days, the Magician and Sun Arcana will awakened, I'll make sure of that, and we will be at the peak of our powers. In thirteen days, you will have your war. You should be fucking terrified if this is the collective strength of your army." His voice rang louder and stronger than Touma had ever heard it. "I'm going to cleanse the filth from this world even if it means killing everything I come across. So tell the shithead upstairs we're fighting at full strength this time and that a couple of allied traitors won't stop us."

There were no openings for an attack. If they tried, they would leave in a cloud of smoke.

"Oh," said Enishi mid-turn. "You're all going to shit yourselves when you find out we want Aizen on the throne—"

"You just told them," muttered Touma weakly. He gauged at Aizen's reaction, though he barely bat an eyelash it seemed to have had some effect on him. "Idiot."

"Shut up! Weren't you dying?"

"Big whoop! They know now, let's get the hell out. I'm hungry!"

The three Arcana disappeared in a sweep of black smoke.

* * *

Ichigo turned around, his hands clasped around Haruka's wrists. Judging by the horrified look on Uryu and Orihime's faces, they must have looked a terrible mess. Orihime was the first to approach them with the intention of using her fairies to restore them to perfect health, but just as she called on them, he felt Haruka flinch.

"Wait! Stop!" he shouted, startling his friend. "Stop!"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ishida. "Have you seen yourselves?"

"Haruka needs a hospital," he said quickly, looking at Orihime. "You can't heal her. She needs a doctor."

Orihime nodded, quickly rushing to Tatsuki's side and searching Ichigo's expression for answers. "What happened to her?"

"She was knocked unconscious before we escaped," Haruka said shakily.

"I think she'll be fine," added Ichigo.

He pulled Haruka onto her feet as he rose and kept her upright as they stepped away from them. He felt Yuka's gaze burning into his back. She knew who Haruka was and he imagined the only reason she stayed quiet was because Haruka could kill her without fear of blowing her cover.

Uryu and Orihime quickly explained their current situation with the Arcana, going as far as schooling them of who they were given their sudden plead of ignorance. Ishida gave them the shorter version and introduced Yuka, The Priestess, who in a matter of seconds dodged them back into the Wakatsuki Manor.

Haruka's legs were shaking and she was barely standing. Ichigo heard the sound of footsteps emerging from the hallway to his direct left and watched as Wakatsuki Hiko and his father stepped into the wide living room one after the other, taking in the sight of their wounded children. Isshin was covered in bruises and bandages, looking as if he had just returned from a fight.

Hiko was a hard man, unknown to let slip any form of emotion outside of his usually blasé nature, but Ichigo swore his face had contorted with unwilled sentiment as he crossed the room to take his daughter into his arms. Ichigo kept his eyes on the two as he stepped closer to the center of the room where he met his own father halfway and looked at him for some sort of explanation because he wasn't supposed to know a thing.

Isshin placed a firm hand on his shoulder and stared him directly in the eyes. "Come 'ere," he said suddenly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "I told you to stay out of trouble, idiot son!"

Ichigo could feel all his bruises and aches screaming as he grunted, trying to wiggle free of his father's hold. "I'm fine, old man!"

Orihime and Ishida were standing by the couch where Tatsuki had been placed. Orihime crouched besides it, looking wonderingly at her friend and hoping everything would be all right by the time she woke up.

"I'll call an ambulance," Hiko announced.

"No," came Haruka's weakened protest. "It'll be faster if I go in the car. I'll be fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

As she opened her mouth to reaffirm her answer, Arashi and Yoruichi entered the room with an unknown shinigami. Arashi swept towards Haruka with feigned worry and took her in his arms swearing he would find whoever hurt her so badly. Ichigo knew better than to accept that sort of amicability from either of them since he heard stories of his betrayal. Arashi wanted to kill her and he could read the tension spike from the moment he entered the room, but he hid all ill intent with an affable mask.

Yoruichi spared him a couple words before approaching Hiko, who had pulled out his phone to call up his driver. Isshin huddled close to engage in the conversation. None of the three was trying to be quiet; everyone in the room had somehow been exposed to the Arcana and had every right to know what it meant.

"Isshin already filled me in on the basics," he assured Yoruichi and the shinigami. "How many Arcana did he awaken from the Gotei 13?"

"Housen killed Captain Hirako of the Fifth Division, Captain Kuchiki of the Sixth Division, Captain Muguruma of the Ninth Division as well as Lieutenant Hisagi of the same division," answered the shinigami gravely. "Captain Ukitake and Commander Sawahata are taking care of treating and helping them through their awakenings with the exception of Captain Hirako and the human prisoner who was taken by Housen and Aizen."

"We have the human," said Hiko, glancing at Tatsuki's unconscious form.

"She attacked Lieutenant Kuchiki, we have—"

Arashi left Haruka's place after guiding her into a seat on an armchair. "She's newly awakened; she's made the full transition in Soul Society."

"But Tatsuki-chan hasn't died, she—"

"Tatsuki did die," said Ichigo, garnering everyone's attention. "She died in the same accident that killed Keigo and—"

"Asano-san too?" Orihime sunk into a seat, unable to process any of the information without feeling completely incompetent.

"There was an accident by a corner store that killed dozens including Keigo," continued Ichigo. "We might have been prisoners, but we knew what Enishi and Touma were planning. They wanted both Tatsuki and Keigo on their side so they took Keigo from you." He looked directly at Arashi, earning an uninterested shrug. "And he brought Tatsuki back to life so it doesn't make sense that she would become like them. None of this makes sense."

Yuka huffed. "If it happened it was supposed to, stop making a big deal out of it. Besides, you have information for us. You know who Nagisa is and you haven't said anything about her."

Everyone was eager to know the truth.

"There's a time and place to interrogate Kurosaki," Hiko interjected. "Soul Society has suffered damages, Aizen Sōsuke has been recruited to their side, the Arcana is nearly complete—our time is running out. Once the Arcana completes its cycle, they will regain all the strength they've lost and we won't stand a chance. We couldn't even capture Touma and now our upper hand is lost."

"That's not all," the shinigami added grimly.

"What?" snapped Hiko. "What else can be worse?"

"One of the vaults in Muken was open."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," remarked Arashi lazily, reclining over the back of a couch.

Ichigo felt the temperature drop at the horrified expression edging its way over Hiko's face. "It's not the—"

"It is," the shinigami answered.

"I'm going to Soul Society," Hiko decided.

"I'll go with you," Isshin said, looking to his son. "Take care of your sisters while I'm gone."

Ichigo nodded.

"You and your Arcana are coming with me Arashi," Hiko decided, walking to Haruka to say goodbye. "Bring all the ones you have at your disposal and meet me there. I take it you have ways of getting in." He placed a hand on his daughter's head, stroking the golden brown locks carefully. "I'll explain everything once you're better, okay."

Haruka inclined her head weakly.

Arashi left the room, gesturing to Yuka to follow.

"I'll speak with Kisuke," said Yoruichi, leaving instantly.

Ichigo could see something in Haruka's hand, but turned away to speak to his friends. He offered to help with Tatsuki and promised to tell them everything that happen once he was sure his sisters were doing fine and that Haruka was safely in the hospital. Ishida questioned his involvement, but he said nothing about the Arcana returning his powers, he felt it was something best saved for later.

A man in uniform entered the room, ready to take Haruka away to the hospital. Hiko met him at the doorway with Isshin following close behind and engaged him in a short conversation that carried the load of his instructions, which included stationing more shinigami to protect his daughter from another kidnapping.

Ichigo stepped over to her one last time and crouched down in front of her. "What's happening?"

"Thank you for keeping me safe," she said, loud enough for the others to hear. She lowered her voice the next time she spoke, leaning forward to make sure he was the only one listening. "I'm not strong enough to lead the Arcana as we speak. I'm weak and I'm a target and things can get worse, but I'm hoping they won't. Keep your sisters safe."

He unconsciously clasped her wrist, feeling the uneven ruptures on her soft skin. "Why are you saying this?"

"Because I like you," she admitted quickly.

He nodded. "I like you too, but that's not the point, why would my sisters—"

"You don't get it," she interjected forcefully. "Romantically. I like you romantically."

"That doesn't make sense…" Ichigo trailed off, coming to the realization. This was the last situation he expected would result in a confession and his face flushed, feeling all eyes on him. "Can we—" he started hesitantly, looking around at everyone left in the room staring. "Can we talk about this somewhere—?"

Haruka leaned forward with a stubborn look on her face and kissed him full on the lips. He felt his face turn a dozen shades darker the instant her soft mouth pressed against his. His head went blank, the world gave out under his feet and he felt he was somewhere else for a whole minute before realizing they were in front of everyone including their fathers. He felt her hand leave his pocket as she pulled away to stand up.

Ichigo watched her dumbly as she left the room behind her driver. He returned to his feet feeling everyone was trying to avoid his eyes. He tried not to look in Hiko's direction especially, but it wasn't long before the man gave his two cents.

"I don't approve."

And Isshin wasn't too far behind in protesting, taking insult.. "Why? Because he's my son?"

Hiko merely huffed turning into the hall with Isshin in hot pursuit. "It is, isn't it?"

Ichigo turned his back on his friends, thoroughly humiliated, with thoughts of disappearing off the face of the planet.

He remembered to check his pocket after leaving the room with the intention of walking off his embarrassment and felt a slip of paper inside. He opened it and read it, feeling his insides twist. There were only three words written in a rush of feeling.

"_Please save Keigo._"

* * *

**xl note**: Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate it, to those that don't, enjoy a random update. Also, thank you **LULuckyTiger** for being an awesome beta!

Many thanks to **reality deviant**, **animelover56348**, **Aries01xD**, **ruler of dragons** and **Regin** for reviewing the previous chapter! To those that have continually reviewed, I am most thankful for the extra motivation you've given me to continue this odd story of mine without the slightest bit of hesitation. And even if you've only reviewed once, it's been enough to keep me going! Thank you to everyone. :)


	33. D-13

**Chapter Thirty Two**,"D-13"

Muken was a bleak underground prison full of kidō-operated cells and vaults nearly impossible to open without the help from the Kidōshū commander or vice-commander. But the penitentiary was built decades before the Arcana came into creation when Housen Enishi was the Spirit King's prized soldier and not his enemy.

It had been the captain-commander's idea to seal away the dormant crystal in the deepest level of the prison by the most powerful barriers where he was its primary defense.

Enishi disguised his true intentions with the help of his Undead Army and his ploy to release Aizen Sōsuke from Muken. He bulldozed through Soul Society like a violent storm and left a number of buildings in shambles and hundreds dead, including the awakening of various new Arcana. He forced everyone's focus elsewhere, so that the dormant crystal seemed like the last thing he could have wanted.

Ukitake Jūshirō was part of the small group that met with Wakatsuki Hiko as he stepped into Soul Society after eighteen absent years accompanied by Kurosaki Isshin. The blond shinigami entered intent on gauging the damage reported to him and inspect the empty vault in the prison to make sure it hadn't been a mistake.

He met the captain-commander and Takamatsu Hiroki, his primary informant, where pivotal information was exchanged. Kyoraku filled in the blanks of his battle against Enishi and of his loss. The conversation contained new factors. Yamato promised Soul Society his army of Arcana in exchange for his sister's capture. Hiko's agreement to the Judgment's conditions angered the captain-commander, but he argued for his right to make his own proper decisions.

Ukitake offered his opinion when possible, believing it was best not to trust someone like Yamato. "He isn't the most trustworthy man in the world," he explained. "He's betrayed the people closest to him. His word is as much a gamble as your proposition."

"I am not discussing my plans with you," Hiko said with a sneer, excusing himself to see the damage inflicted within Muken.

Kurosaki and Takamatsu followed suit, the latter continued elaborating on the battle's details as well as many other tidbits of information he might have missed. Takamatsu was a young man, a head shorter than he was with chestnut-colored hair and dark eyes, who worked as an Onmitsukidō before recruited into the Arcana Extermination Squad.

The coalition was comprised of suitable soldiers attained over the years born from exposure to the crystal that developed abilities to counterattack the Arcana's unique abilities—acting as a defensive shield rather than offensive—but there were more than ten members with the exception of Hiko.

Hiko paused in the middle of the destruction, taking in the sight of it all with grave silence. Kurosaki and Takamatsu halted a few feet away. The walls were dyed crimson and the many Fourth Division shinigami were gathering the wounded and the dead, saving the soldiers they could and easing the others into a dreamless slumber. Observing the heartbroken looks on many of their faces awakened a new emotion in Hiko's heart. He remembered Haruka's wounded state and the worry it caused him to know she was in that hospital fighting for stabilization while her kidnapper ran free, leaving so many innocent people dead whose only crime had been trying to protect their home.

"Captain-commander," he called.

Yamamoto regarded him with an audible grunt.

"I want Kosuda's sentence lifted. Enishi declared war on Soul Society. In thirteen days, I want Kosuda released to counter their assault plan. We will not fall prey to their destruction. Soul Society has suffered enough for a mistake we've already paid for hundreds of years ago. The only thing we can do for them is a mercy kill and Yamato possesses a permanent solution to this problem."

There were protests, but the captain-commander had the final say—words that had taken many years to leave his mouth and a resolution that he would never see Soul Society in that state ever again.

"You can have him as soon as the paperwork for his release is processed."

.

.

The entrance to the vault in question had been ripped from its hinges and thrown across the hall. Within the large crypt was a single black pillar underneath an arched ceiling. The metal walls sustained considerable damage from when Enishi removed the dormant black crystal from its prison.

There was no telling what he planned to do with the concentrated energy—a crystal guilty of fatalities and grave consequences for its survivors. Hiko never considered the Arcana survivors; they died long before the revolt. They were entities without name, unrestrained by life or death.

"This room's full of energy," Isshin commented looking around. He shuddered in the presence of the sinister energy permeating from the room. "Is it really safe to be in here?"

"It's better you get used to it now," said Hiko casually. "It'd be ashamed if you were killed with the overexposure."

* * *

Haruka blinked wearily at the flashing lights above her head as she was rushed towards the nearest emergency room. She didn't understand half the medical jargon shouted between the pair of specialist threw around at each other and their nurses. She felt a stifling cold wash over her and needles prick her skin, inserting medicine into her veins. It hurt for a thousand reasons, every muscle in her body locked and her body twisted against the hands pinning her down, gasping for air. Someone shouted for oxygen, one doctor announced that he couldn't hear her heartbeat and in that dreadful moment, her skin was covered in goose bumps and a realization came crashing down around her. She was terrified. She was undoubtedly petrified by the thought of death, of white oblivion—an existence without beginning or end, a state of being and nothing more.

The oxygen masked helped keep her breathing—kept her from falling into the painless darkness. Her Arcana were suffering. The entire cycle had been thrust into misery. New Arcana were in the midst of awakening and she could see the process pictured in her mind. Every wound they sustained within that horrific dimension full of faceless soldiers, hit her battered form harder. The damage Enishi endured in Soul Society had left an imprint on her skin, disappearing from his and reappearing on hers. Touma's broken bones forced her own to close in on her organs as his scrapes burned in her palms.

She didn't have enough spiritual energy to continue healing her own body, let along continue absorbing all of their wounds. She bit down a cry in pain as she twisted over the uncomfortable bedding as doctors shouted new instructions.

She felt the prick of another needle in her arm and her mind throb as new visions filled her head. The drug that shot through her vein felt like a corrosive acid that welcomed the first seizure that might have killed her as she was taken into a spacious room full of blinding lights.

Her final thought lingered several minutes before the drug took her. _My brothers are alive. Touma is alive._

_And Ichigo…_

The corners of her eyes started going black.

_I…I won't regret oblivion. The new Queen will mend my mistakes._

* * *

Touma woke with a violent cough and the feel of plush covers and throw pillows all around him. His body was stiff and bandaged, but his bones were mended and his blood supply replenished. He lay in his bed within Ageha's dimension, staring up at the vaulted ceiling breathing easy. Bookshelves stood from floor to ceiling stacked with thousands of books and the sweet smell of incense soothed his rampant heart.

He abandoned his bed. He followed the voices on the other end of the enormous library where a clutter of couches sat over a circular rug and a single square table. He found Enishi stuffing his face full of junk food at the table and Aizen seated in an armchair with a mug of tea and a map spread out before him while Ageha stood by the table with his nose in a book. In a glowing barrier a couple feet away near the shorter shelves was the new Fortune Arcana going through his reawakening.

Ageha glimpsed in his direction. "Should you be up? You've only been down for three hours."

"Nagisa healed me, 'course I'm fine."

"That's stupid," remarked Enishi after swallowing a mouthful of beef and rice. "Nagi's in the hospital."

"Did she get a paper cut or something?"

Aizen looked at him as one would an idiot, but it didn't offend him as he assume it would the minute his villainous name left his sister's mouth during the planning stages of their now set foundation.

"She's a lupus patient and she's used enough spiritual energy to put her in a grave," Enishi replied. "It's probable she'll be unconscious for a couple days and I've got a job for you."

Ageha closed his book and set it on the desk. He stepped over to him to ensure most of Touma's wounds were healed, but the redhead frowned as he searched for remaining aches. Touma batted him away with a frown. "I'm fine!" he complained, then looked to his brother. "What do I have to do?"

"Nagi needs a twenty-four hour bodyguard, so I need you to use that nursing degree you got last year and infiltrate the hospital," said Enishi, wiping his mouth. "And dye your hair; nobody wants to hire a redhead."

"Why can't you do it?" he said in protest.

"Because I still have that teaching gig at Karakura High," Enishi said matter-a-factly.

"You missed like weeks of school," said Touma in disbelief. "I thought you were fired. I wouldn't be surprised if you were fired."

"Hey, I have great work ethic," defended Enishi. "I called in sick and have fake medical records to prove it. I got on pretty well with the principal, he likes me."

"Why can't I take the teaching job? I can teach history. I know history."

"You'll teach your version of history which is basically an autobiography of yourself and your international misadventures between every woman's thighs."

"That's because I was around to witness it all while you were either dead or a baby!" Touma pointed at Aizen, completely ignoring his thigh comment as relevant as it may have been to his argument it did him no good throwing it back in his face. "Why can't he be the nurse?"

"How stupid would it be to put him in a hospital where people like Hiko and Arashi are bound to visit?"

"They know what I look like too!" protested Touma.

"That's why I asked you to dye your hair!"

"You said it was because they wouldn't hire redheads!"

"Well it's both!"

"Is all this argument all that necessary?" asked Ageha, looking from one brother to the other. "You have endured harsh battles and survived, the least you can do is appreciate that you're still alive."

"I want my power back," Touma announced, finding the root of all his fury overpower his minute annoyance towards his appointment as a bodyguard. "All of it!"

"That you'll have to take up with Nagi."

"I will!"

Touma stormed into the nearest row of bookshelves and followed the paths between back to his bed where he slumped into a seat to fulminate in peace. He closed his eyes as a thought formed in his head and before the others noticed, he dodged out of Ageha's boring dimension.

* * *

Ichigo arrived home to find Yuzu enduring a flu and Karin attempting to take on her duties, specifically. Upon seeing him, the two girls looked beyond relieved, as if they had expected the worst had happened to him. He greeted them separately and answered questions as best he could without disclosing that he had been in three different cities in a short span of time. He expertly avoided the subject of Wakatsuki Haruka and headed up the stairs trying to keep the flood of thoughts from overloading his mind.

As soon as he could manage, he barred himself in his room and dropped down onto his bed. It had been so long since he last slept in it he had forgotten how much he hated its springiness. It was uncomfortable, the sheets were itchy, and he found himself missing the plush coverlet in the apartment that for the strangest reason smelled like Haruka.

Ichigo flushed. He remembered her seated on the living room floor chewing on her fingernails as she played one of her bloody zombie games on the television. She sat there for hours completing level upon level and growing frustrated when boss fights came along to the point she ordered either of her available brothers to help pass them for her, though she would shout instructions and take credit for any victories they attained. And he remembered an off-comment Nagata had said one of those days in exasperation. "_I swear, if I took over the world all by myself, she'd take the credit for it._"

To which, Haruka laxly responded, "_I can hear you._"

"_That's the point_," he had snapped. "_I'm not afraid of you, you're just a skinny little girl with an obsession with power._"

"_So says my favorite terrorist._"

"_If we take over the world, I want my own district._"

"_This isn't The Hunger Games; I'm not stupid enough to split the world into districts_"

"_What the fuck is a hunger game?_"

"_Only a wonderful movie of youths fighting to the death for the sake of a corrupted government and how one girl starts an uprising_," Touma remarked thoughtfully from his seat at the kitchen counter. He was watching the ice cubes melt in his scotch. "_You should pick up a book once in a while._"

"_Kurosaki's probably never heard of it before—_" Nagata interrupted himself upon gauging Ichigo's reaction before coming to an immediate conclusion. "_You know what they're talking about_?"

"_I have sisters_," was his excuse.

Nagata looked so offended that he asked everyone in the room to shove their hunger games up their arse and stormed out of the room, startling Keigo and Tatsuki when he demanded if they knew what it was to endure the same reaction. What he told them didn't compare with the evil that spewed from his lips to Keigo and Tatsuki, not that the latter stood for it. She snapped back.

Ichigo found himself thinking of his memories with Haruka, of everything that they lived through before and after her awakening. He thought of the good and the bad and the horrible. Since Rukia, he had never spent that much time with a single person in so little time. Things were different this time. He felt they were and he couldn't explain or describe them.

And then she confessed to him. She admitted it in front of everyone in the room, in front of their fathers, in front of Wakatsuki Hiko who immediately disapproved. But that wasn't the worst of it. He could have dealt with that if it was simply a confession and try acting normal, but she kissed him.

She kissed him.

Ichigo still felt her lips on his.

He dug through his pocket for his cellphone, the third replacement Nagata bought after snapping the second in half. He found it blinking with new messages, several to be exact. He flipped it open. They were all from Haruka and his heart pounded wildly in response. She was in the hospital. It had only been four hours since he left her house and received the note asking for Keigo's rescue.

He opened each one after the other, all sent in intervals of six to eighteen minutes.

'_Someone betrayed me._'

'_That same person will betray my brothers._'

_'He will betray you and your sisters_.'

Ichigo rose into a seat, troubled by a nagging suspicion that he dared not name.

'_He intends to recruit Keigo._'

'_The completed cycle is stronger._'

'_But he cannot lead it because my Arcana has a successor._'

The last message he read forced him out of bed where he abandoned his phone, rushed out of his room and took the stairs two at a time. It echoed in his head endlessly. '_The Arcana needs a queen…and I won't last much longer._'

Yuzu was seated in the couch facing the kitchen as Karin struggled with dinner preparations. He startled her as he placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

"How long have you been sick?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. "Karin, how long has she been sick?"

"It's only been a couple days," Yuzu answered, removing his hand from her forehead. "I'm getting better."

"What about you, Karin? Have you felt sick? Has anything weird happened to either of you while I've been gone?" he pressed, feeling his insides twist into hard knots of apprehension. "Have you met anyone strange?"

Karin stared at him skeptically. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, nii-chan, you sound strange," agreed Yuzu, bundled up in her blanket.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly. "It's just—there are bad—" He shook his head, swallowing his words. "I want to make sure nothing happens to either one of you. If anything weird happens or someone strange says something to you, tell me."

Ichigo unconsciously headed for the door.

"Are you going somewhere?" Karin asked from the kitchen. "You just came back."

He halted, searching his pocket for his phone and turned to them. "Haruka's in the hospital."

"Why is she in the hospital? Did something bad happen?" Yuzu blurted, jumping out of her seat. "Did she get worse?"

As strong as she was, he couldn't help himself from damning his powerless self. _I can't protect her_. He needed to continue his training. He wanted more knowledge about the Arcana to learn from it in every angle possible until he came to the conclusion as to why his sisters were involved and why Haruka was certain she would die. His friends, family, and old enemies were all involved and he couldn't even repair a severed zanpakutō bond.

"She had an accident. I'm going to make sure it wasn't bad."

He reached for the doorknob and opened the door when a cluster of black smoke caught in his periphery and his sisters' eyes widened in astonishment.

"I need to borrow a bathroom—" Ichigo jerked around to face Touma, who stopped short of talking upon realizing the presence of others. "Holy shit, they've seen me!"

He dodged out of sight in the middle of a panic.

"You idiot! You're making it worse!" shouted Ichigo to a cloud of smoke.

"Nii-chan, who was that?" demanded Karin.

Yuzu stood in silent shock, jaw dropped. She just saw a person disappear for the first time.

Ichigo rubbed his face in response. "An id—"

"Psst, I still need to use the bathroom." Touma poked his head into sight, looking sheepish.

"It's upstairs! Just go!" he snapped, pointing up in the direction of the staircase.

Touma sidled in awkwardly, waving to the twin girls with a strange gleam in his eye. "Excuse me," he uttered with a respectful bow and slithered upstairs. "Sorry for freaking you out."

.

.

"Hi, my name is Touma."

Touma made himself comfortable at the table after single-handedly rescuing Karin's poor excuse of dinner before it was beyond salvaging. Nobody invited him to eat, but he made enough and served himself a dish. His introduction was met with dubious courtesies.

"Don't you have a house?" Ichigo finally asked.

"Yamato wrecked the whole building," he answered. "You should see the amateur coverage." He procured a phone and found the video on the internet. "If you wait long enough, you'll see me running across the grass. Look, there!"

It was a shaky camera and there were overlapping voices, but he clearly watched Touma rush into an empty street before something large in the shape of a hammer slammed into the side of Kazumasa's building, demolishing it. Touma narrowly escaped the swing. Shortly, Arashi emerged from the cloud of smoke that had gathered and the people watching clamored incoherently, not sure whether to scream and panic or watch in awe, and following close behind were Yoruichi and his father. There was a short exchange before Arashi's hammer disappeared and Touma did as well.

"Everyone thinks I'm a superhero," he said with a cheesy grin.

"Haruka is going to kill you for this," chided Ichigo.

Touma shut his phone off and laughed. "That's fine. Yamato'll find a way to have the videos taken down and everyone's memory wiped. He fixes his mistakes." He shrugged indifferently, digging into his food. "I was with Ageha and En. They're working out super plans since he declared war on everyone and promised to put Aizen on the throne by the end of it."

Ichigo was glaring daggers at him, as shocking as the news was, his sisters could only pretend they weren't listening to the strange conversation. They didn't need exposure to the Arcana's world. "Will you shut up? We can talk about this later."

"Why?" he questioned, looking to the girls. "Because of them? They need to know what's going to happen because they're just as involved as you are."

"Involved in what?" asked Karin, eyebrows furrowed.

"It's nothing," snapped Ichigo.

"It's obviously something," Karin countered. "Why is he here? Who is—no, what is he? Why can he disappear like that? And why can't I sense him?"

"You can't sense me because I'm not a shinigami," started Touma, despite Ichigo's death glare. "I'm not anything you can sense. I can disappear like that because its one of the perks of being what I am and I'm here to help your brother get his power back, as well as make sure he accomplishes the one thing he needs to do during this war: keep you safe. And what I am is simple, I'm an Arcana like you two will be." He zeroed in on Karin with a smile, feeling Ichigo grab his arm and pull. "You're going to make us stronger."

Yuzu looked at them glassy eyed and confused. "Arcana?" she repeated. "What is that? Why are you—?"

Touma stuffed his face full of food as if he had not ruined everyone's appetite.

"I'd expect this from someone like Nagata, but you—why would you do this?" demanded Ichigo, furious. "You don't have any right to get into my business with my sisters."

"The day before everyone went their separate ways, Haruka sat us down as you and your buddies slept," elaborated Touma. "She summoned Ageha and Kouyou. Kouyou returned his borrowed ability to Ageha and with it The Hermit predicted a hundred twenty-seven outcomes to her orders. Enishi created a foul proof plan to release Aizen and kill as many potential Arcana in Soul Society as possible. I brought the Hanged Man up to speed. She fed you her energy to drag out your Hollow and begin a painfully boring processes. She exhausted enough spiritual energy to put her in her grave and she still used the dregs of what remained to rehabilitate me. She switched Arcana's outside the time constraints and chopped off thirty years of her life for a gamble. If she failed to survive or reawaken, she gave us tasks. Enishi would declare war using me as a pretext and would work towards putting Aizen on the throne. Ageha and Kouyou would find a way to destroy the black crystal that turned us into monsters. And she left you with me. You and your sisters, I would return your power and train you to our level. And I would protect these two girls even if it means dying."

'_…and I won't last much longer_.' Ichigo realized he had been holding his breath because he couldn't shout that he didn't care. He cared about what happened to Haruka, more than he could imagine. "She's dying?" he questioned, slow and soft and full of disbelief. "How? Why? But she was fine—she—"

"The only way this could work is through her death," Touma replied, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. However, his panic and anger spilled into his words. "The only way we would be free is if she left us and someone else took her place. The outcome would be different, she said. Do you know what happens to Arcana that die naturally?"

Ichigo faced him directly.

"They don't come back. Their souls disappear and before you realize what's happened, you won't remember them," he answered, teeth clenched. "Their existence is erased. I don't want to live out my life not knowing I had a sister, but she says there is no other way."

"Does she just plan to die? Just like that?" Ichigo shook his head, remembering the kiss she gave him. _Was that a goodbye? Did she say she liked me because she knew she was going to die?_ "Can't you do something?"

"Nothing she would be pleased with."

Ichigo felt hopeful. "What is it?"

"Nothing you'd like much either."

"What is it?" he demanded, feeling desperation's hold on him. He didn't understand his desire to keep her alive, but he wanted to see her again. He wanted to see her healthy and smiling and saying strange things. He suddenly didn't care how strong she was or whether she wanted to destroy Soul Society or not, all he wanted was to make sure he would see her tomorrow. Sleeping or awake, but alive. "What can you do?"

Touma leaned in, avoiding eye contact with his sisters. "It involves stopping some heartbeats to my right and completing the cycle."

* * *

**Beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: I was going to seriously hold onto this chapter until Christmas, but I've been doing this strange update every 2 days thing going since the 16th, so I said, what the hell? So here it is.

This chapter marks the beginning of the countdown to the end of Paroxysm, every chapter will be a new day in the lives of our protagonists, villains and maybe some surprise POVs as they face the various obstacles leading up to Nagata's war. Also, I have literally given you the name of all Arcana now, so they all have faces now.

I'd also like to apologize to redheads everywhere. Nagata is horrible.

There are so many more secrets to uncover and bigger twists to endure. I promise you part one will end with a bang.

So I'd like to take the time to thank my wonderful, faithful reviewers: **reality deviant**, **animelover56348**, **ruler of dragons**, **kiss2lips** and **Aries01xD** (I think they're all secretly pacifists. lol You're totally right!) for helping turn my strange little idea (which I thought was complete nonsense) into what it is today. I would send you all presents for all the motivation you have given me in my time of need and for that I'll always be thankful and try even harder to make reading this story a wonderful experience.

Thank you for helping me break 80 reviews a few chapters ago, and now 100. If I don't make it for a Christmas update - Merry Christmas - I might surprise you for New Years. ;)

Look forward to seeing what happened to Keigo and things get dramatic between Touma and Ichigo. Preview is up at xlilim livejournal. (It's a temporary community while I spruce up my journal, there's a link redirecting you there as well and a link in my profile).


	34. D-12

**Chapter Thirty Three**,"D-12"

Touma stormed into Ichigo's bedroom holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. "Hey, Kuro-chan!"

Ichigo frowned. "Stop calling me that," he grumbled. "I thought I told you to stay out of my house."

"I came to give you news about Asano," Touma said from the doorway, drawing his attention quickly. "I haven't pinpointed his location yet, but I will in another day or two, I've been everywhere."

"You could have texted that all too me instead of inviting yourself in."

The redhead plopped down at the desk, setting down his bag and wine. "The little one let me in—Yuzu, is it?" he admitted shamelessly. "I bought her cupcakes from America."

Ichigo glanced up at him from his notes, completely bothered by his actions. "Why would you go all the way to America to buy cupcakes?"

"Because California has the best cupcakes," Touma said matter-a-factly. "Take it from me, I've been everywhere."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why Yuzu?"

"Because she didn't secretly threaten to poison me if I ever came back." Touma smiled. "I genuinely feel bad that Yuzu has to die."

"I already told you, I'm not going to let either one of my sisters turn into Arcana," he repeated, looking back to his notes. They had an explosive argument the day before that resulted in the kitchen table being flipped on its back and two startled young girls shouting at the redheaded stranger to get off their brother. "I won't let that happen to them."

Touma left Ichigo's desk, eyes narrowed. "If Nagisa dies, we become human," he started. "I don't remember being human, but I'm sure it'd be nice not to have to worry about Soul Society and Arcana and Hollow, you know if they don't decide to annihilate us for shits and giggles. I have enough money in the bank to keep me comfortable from here until the end of my life, but I don't think I would be able to live with myself not knowing I had a sister like Nagisa. She raised me, taught me right from wrong and berated me when I needed it. She gave me the strongest Arcana because she secretly believed in me…"

Ichigo's grip on his pencil tightened and his teeth clenched.

"Enishi wouldn't give you the options I offered. He would take your sisters' lives and make sure they awakened," he continued. "I didn't want Nagisa to be an Arcana, so I know how you feel. I wanted her to find someone she could be happy with and live her life doing what she loved until she turned into a shriveled old prune. I still want her to do all those things, except she can't.

"All she wanted was to find a cure, but she's been beaten down so many times, I think she's given up. I'm not an idiot. I've spent so many years following her long before Kouyou made contact with her. She was cursed with an incurable illness that would inevitably kill her and I think she was happy for that. She let Yamato push her into that car for the chance to die. She made sure the Magician was killed so our ranks were weakened so when she came to this exact point in time, she would exhaust all her spiritual energy to die."

"That's insane! She's fighting for her life!" Ichigo snapped, dropping his pencil. He didn't believe it. He couldn't fathom how little self-worth Haruka possessed. How could anyone live like that? It angered him to know that he couldn't fix it and scared that there was truth in Touma's words. Why would Touma lie? "She's not going to die! She's not that weak! She's fighting to stay alive and she will! All this bullshit is just making it harder for her to be happy!"

"Because Nagisa has been an Arcana since she was born," answered Touma, the essence of calm. "That awakening she had was complete bogus, she just enabled her power over the rest of us. She's always been aware, watching us from afar, nurturing us, and trying to keep everyone from awakening. Why do you think she was in the same street where Enishi died? Why do you think she called the ambulance? Do you know how hard she tried reviving him? Do you know how terrified she was watching everything spin out of control when she thought things might be different?"

Ichigo stared at him wide-eyed and speechless.

"The fate she spun centuries ago has not been kind to her and because of all her failures; she believes this is her destiny. Dying and abnegating her crown is the only way she can give us a future." Touma exhaled deeply, exasperated. "Her way of thinking is selfish and frustrating, but the only way Nagisa sees the world is a haven where she had never been born. She's trying to remedy it by dying."

"Who says there isn't another way?" Ichigo challenged. "Who says she can't live and make the difference some other way? Who says she has to die and let someone else take over?"

"The Hermit's Eye is best known for its precision, not its assumptions. Nagisa saw peace in your sister's succession and she has promised Wakatsuki Hiko a tranquil world in which we can finally live without hunger for revenge."

Ichigo's eyebrows creased skeptically. "She told Wakatsuki-san?"

"Wakatsuki Hiko is far from being an idiot. He has known Nagisa and Yamato were his children from the very start," he remarked knowingly. "How else would you explain how he's kept them hidden for sixteen years?"

* * *

Although, Haruka lived through another death scare, her illness worsened to the point of leaving her comatose. Nagata appeared in her room during visiting hours and approached her bedside. Her skin was sallow and her golden brown hair looked brittle to the touch. She lay unresponsive, plugged into an IV that dripped small doses of a medicine meant to save her and an EKG that measured the shallow thumps of her heart, a resonant sound that only reminded him of death.

He took the nearest chair and dragged it to her bedside, plopping down. He reached out to touch her, gingerly feeling her small, bony fingers. She felt incredibly small, almost nonexistent, and cold. So very cold.

Nagata slid his hand in hers and stared at her slumbering face in silence. He listened to the beep of the EKG, beating at the same rhythm as his own heart, and the sighs emerging from the machine providing her with enough oxygen to keep her lungs pumping. He could smell the flowers sitting by the window, a vase full of red peonies, he increasingly found repugnant. It was in bad taste. If he knew who brought them, he would gladly shove them out the window.

He watched her as if he expected his presence might be enough to wake her.

She wouldn't.

But he waited. He waited restlessly for a long time, sitting through three doctor rounds and eight nurse rounds. He waited until the light had given way for the darkness and the stars were dim, signaling visiting hours had concluded.

He stayed well into the night, a shy from one in the morning, before standing. He gave himself a moment to be a brother to her, a proper family member that stayed at her bedside when she needed it. She did need it even if she couldn't admit it and he was the only one that knew from a memory long ago. A moment in history when she was crying as if she were dying with great emotional pain resulting from the worst heartbreak and a secret she shared with him, a week before the Arcana Project was decided.

Instead of walking away at the sight of her crippling state or asking for a name so he could stab the perpetrator of her tears, he took the empty space on the bench and grabbed her hand. It had felt as though she would never stop crying or talking gibberish in failed attempt to make excuses. He wouldn't believe a fall caused her audible pain because she was the sort of person that cursed so loudly the Spirit King winced had she fallen or tripped.

Those tears had a reason and he knew his name. And he had never forgotten it to that day. He was the first person to ruin Nagisa's expectations of men, the second had been the husband that sold her out during the Fourth Cycle and he had taken care of him.

And when the tears dried up, his hand cramping, Nagisa turned to him with a bittersweet smile to say, "_Thank you for sitting with me, En_." It soothed her soul and he wanted to do the same now.

Nagata brushed the hair from her brow, head hung and face twisted in pain. If he could pay the price necessary to use his powers on her, he would a thousand times over. But he couldn't stop a natural death.

"I still need you Nagisa, so don't you dare give up on me," he threatened, teeth clenched. "Don't give up on us."

* * *

Asano Keigo opened his eyes after what had felt like a thousand sleep, his bones ached and his insides were like a cauldron full of putty. His surroundings were pitch-black with the distinct smell of earth beneath his throbbing body and trees freshly showered in light aromatic rain. Rustling leaves filled the air, a noise as soft as whispers, and above his head he saw the looming branches of an ancient tree whose tendrils waved as if they were reaching to caress him.

Prior memory to that moment was lost to him. He left his home with the intention of finding someone to help Touma that the need was almost desperate. He dodged, but beyond the speedy travel and a picture of darkness, he did not recall a thing. He was lost and now here he was.

Keigo seated himself, ensuring his pain didn't stem from any flesh wound, when the creak of rusted hinges reached him and a flood of yellow light fell across his back. He stiffened—the sound of curious voices followed the soft crunch of earth beneath someone's feet. Despite the cold fear that strummed through him, Keigo turned.

The man halted, blocking the bright lights. His features were heavily shadowed, but Keigo promised never to forget his face. Watanabe Kouyou, the Hierophant, dressed impeccably in a pair of dark slacks and a crisp white buttoned down shirt that matched the color of his bone-white hair. His eyes shown like yellow lanterns under the heavy shadows that sharpened the edges of his face—a placid expression with a mouth frozen in the kindest smile one could muster and eyes that looked upon him like an earthworm peaking about the earth's surface.

He could squish him.

And Keigo's heart hammered in his chest because he remembered the coldness of those eyes and feared the words he might speak could bring about dread. Had The Hierophant brought him to these spooky woods? If so, why? Keigo would have known if this was one of Haruka's orders, but he sensed this was nothing of the sort.

"Good evening, Hanged Man," he greeted icily, "I've been awaiting your awakening."

Keigo blinked up at him, terror weighing down on his shoulders. He struggled to remain calm, but from the pool of fresh memories he remembered this man standing over him with the same haughty look with ink-black hair and eyes as gray as storm clouds, flecked gold as if streaked by lightning. A sword had been pointed at his throat, tip digging into the sensitive flesh far enough to draw blood. His life had been claimed by the Hierophant—Keeper of Keys, Guardian of the Vault, the Authority. He had so many names that it amazed Keigo to realize he knew them all and what they meant, each more terrible than the last.

"W-why?" he stammered, his legs going weak underneath the weight of his burden.

"Why you ask?" Kouyou played with a smile, a feigned kindness. "Because you are a part of their league. I suppose that's the reason."

"What league?"

But somewhere deep inside he understood the gravity of his capture because that's what this was, a capture. It was not an extended invitation.

"Of our Evokers—the strongest, the only, the core of the Arcana," he told him strongly. "Nagisa's Shield."

* * *

**xl**: Merry Christmas! Happy 25th! WOOOOH!

I wasn't updating nothing 'cause some totally unnecessary life hits prevented the completion of a dozen other chapters (for other stories) and this one was at its beta, so you really got **LULuckyTiger** for making this update possible. She said it best, "A Christmas present for the readers." So yay for her being so awesome. :) You'll also be getting a New Years Update for this series. So, I'll see you at 2013. :)

Happy Holidays!

Thank you for all the awesome reviews: **reality deviant**, **animelover56348** and **ruler of dragons**. You bring daylight to my nightlight, which makes absolutely no sense, but at the same time makes all the sense in the world.

Next chapter preview will be posted as soon as I wake up later. I'm going to bed.

Thank you for reading! :)


	35. D-11

**Chapter Thirty Four**,"D-11"

Kurosaki Ichigo resumed school on the third day, learning that his father excused his absence on the pretense of an unfortunate accident that left him temporarily bedridden. He was spared the lectures, but had received a heap of workload he had to complete throughout the remainder of the school year to be brought up to speed before the next break. He couldn't afford wasting another school year after the drop his grades had taken when he first came to his powers, but at the same time, Nagata had waged war on Soul Society and Yuzu was still at home fighting an unrelenting fever. Though Karin remained healthy, his worries grew by day with Touma dropping in his house to fight a losing battle. There was no way in hell, Ichigo would allow his sister to turn into Arcana, but if that was the only way Haruka could live…he hesitated.

His mind wandered endlessly between Touma's mysterious training regime, Haruka's unresponsiveness, Yuzu's incurable fever, his father's absence and Karin standing at the helm, trying hard to keep it together as everything around her threatened to spiral out of control. Ichigo's focus suffered as lectures and lessons buzzed in his ears incoherently and the letters in his textbooks shifted into different shapes. He pretended nothing was wrong, struggled to complete worksheets and surmise texts and try not to sound lost when he was asked to read passages.

He approached Tatsuki during the lunch break, surprised to see her in attendance after learning she awakened as the Chariot. "You okay?"

Tatsuki turned to him with a sour look on her face. "I should be asking you that."

They exchanged pleasantries and worries and she expressed her anger as well as assured him that nothing had changed.

"Have you talked to Enishi?" Tatsuki asked after they stepped out into the semi-crowded hallway.

She was meeting with Orihime to eat on the rooftop and had invited him, but he refused opting to spend time by himself to think things through.

"Enishi?"

Tatsuki's expression darkened when Orihime called out to them from the opposite end of the building. They stalled by the middle staircase giving the auburn-haired girl enough time to reach them as they finished their conversation. Ichigo rescinded his shock. There were multiple reasons why he wanted to know why Tatsuki was on a first-name basis with Nagata, but judging by the grim look in her eyes, it was a subject that might surely lead to murder. And between the two of them, Tatsuki was now stronger than he had ever been, as per Touma's explanation.

"No, I haven't seen him," Ichigo answered, glimpsing down the flight of stairs to a number of uniformed classmates descending onto the second floor. "He's been missing since Haruka went into the hospital."

"Coward," Tatsuki grumbled.

About to turn away, Ichigo caught sight of Wakatsuki Arashi trotting up the staircase with a jet-haired teacher at his heels promising to fail him. Seeing the first of the Housen was a definite warning sign, but as to what Ichigo couldn't tell. The anger bubbled into a storm inside him at the sight of the Judgment. He caused the unfortunate events that put Haruka in the hospital.

"Yamato," Tatsuki acknowledged darkly.

Orihime appeared beside her, gauging their sinister expression with concern. "Did something happen?" Her eyes followed the crowds below to spot Haruka's twin. "Oh, it's Arashi-san."

Arashi paused on the first step of the last flight of stairs and whipped around to face his teacher. "Ooh," he mocked, shuddering. Never had they ever heard him speak that way to any authority figure. "I'm so scared of your big red pen."

Tatsuki bristled, the air growing crisp and electrifying all around her. She had recognized him first, despite that neatly combed black hair and dressed-up garb. "Enishi."

Ichigo heard a constant popping sound before realizing that it, indeed, was Nagata Taishi standing in front of Arashi with a clipboard and a red pen he used to draw the biggest '0' in the history of failures. "There go your scholastic opportunities, you twat!"

"I can have you fired." Arashi continued up the flight of stairs, sparing Ichigo and Tatsuki a scoff before proceeding down the hall.

"Do it!" shouted Nagata, taking three steps at a time to reach the third floor, completely oblivious to them. "I'd like to see you try it asshole!"

The corridor had emptied out sufficiently enough to prevent his instant dismissal, but the few that heard earned their fair share of insults for eavesdropping on a teacher's private conversations with his student. They were included in that group. He whipped around, sensing the presence of three students behind them with excuses only the most gullible man in the world would believe.

"I'm concerned for his educational needs, you lot can go fuck yourself if you can't understand what it means to be a teach—" The sight of Ichigo and Orihime didn't faze him, neither did his words sound like nonsense, but the minute his eyes met Tatsuki's vicious glower, everything right in the world unfurled into a beacon for the apocalypse.

Two Housen in one day read like a nightmare.

"Wanna repeat that?" she challenged, not a semblance of fury in her tone.

Nagata smirked at her. "What?" he started mockingly. "Go fuck yourself?"

"Say it again!" she demanded, louder this time.

"Tatsuki-chan, I think we should—"

Ichigo reached out to grab Nagata by the collar, pulling him away harshly. His square-rimmed glasses clattered to the ground. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "Why the hell is Touma at my house?"

"He's been hiding behind his sister's skirts is what he's doing," Tatsuki stated. "It's what he's good at."

The grin on his face widened, pale eyes locked on Tatsuki's face. "Don't be jealous, Honoka, there's enough room in my schedule to fit you in for an hour or two."

"You son of a—"

Orihime grabbed a hold of Tatsuki's arm, only to jerk back with a yelp as soon as she made contact. A spark of electricity zipped across her fingertips, leaving small tendrils of smoke that snapped Tatsuki back into her five senses. "Shit, Orihime, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's just this—" she shot the vilest of looks at Nagata's smirking face, "—this _scum_, ugh, let's get out of here."

Nagata tugged free of Ichigo's hold, following every step Tatsuki took before reaching the staircase. "I think she likes me."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I should've let her punch you."

He dipped his head low, glancing up, as if to look up her skirt. Ichigo shoved him in response. "Stop that."

Death laughed ominously, and then finally awarded Ichigo with his full attention. "I've been making preparations, I mean, wars don't just throw themselves. And Touma's in charge of your training unless you want to switch him for me. I'd take you on, no problem, but I won't be as nice as Touma has been about your sisters. They're not dead and they're supposed to be."

"They're not joining."

"One of them is Nagisa's successor. She has to be ready for the worst. Nagisa has to pass on the knowledge before she croaks."

"They're not turning into Arcana," Ichigo swore. "I won't let them."

"Then stop being a bitch and do something about it. I'm not the only one that wants to turn them," stated Nagata. "Yamato does too and if he sends any one of his allies, those girls will be as good as dead. _Especially_, without you training and all."

Death moved away, heading back to the staircase.

Helpless. All he could feel was a helplessness that cut deep. Ichigo couldn't do anything.

Nagata paused after the first step. His eyebrows knitted and he looked conflicted. "This isn't being done to empower the Arcana," he admitted. "Nagisa is my sister, as stupid and annoying as she may be. It wouldn't be the first time I see her die and it isn't as violent as other deaths, but it is the first time I lose her permanently. Your sisters will come back, they won't even fight, but mine won't and that's the only one I've got."

"You can't make me choose between my sisters and Haruka—" Ichigo forced himself to stop, earning a quizzical look from Nagata.

"I was in that same situation before," Nagata said, ringing truth. "My sister and brothers or a girl. I picked me. Now they all secretly hate me."

He cracked a smile, obviously joking.

Ichigo grew furious. "Be serious!"

"All this sappy bullshit is making me hungry," Nagata announced, waving his off. "We can talk about this when we're trying to kill each other."

'I'm not fighting you!"

"Keep telling yourself that, sport."

.

.

Ichigo met with the third and final Housen brother after school, a sure-sign of catastrophe. He already felt an eerie shift in the air upon laying his eyes on Touma standing in front of the gate surrounded by a dozen girls chatting him up. He smiled at them, promising he would call and message each of them before the day was out and they swooned. He had never seen Touma near so many women before, but Keigo did say that Touma had hundreds of conquests. He never wanted to ask how that came up in conversation, so he ignored Keigo and opted for a change of subject, feeling Tatsuki's eyes on him as if daring him to look as excited as Keigo. It felt to have happened so long ago, but he was certain it was five days ago.

Seeing Touma preoccupied, Ichigo attempted to blend with the crowd to escape his line of sight when he saw Nagata stomping towards the gates. He swept past the remaining students carrying his case with all his school items. Nagata cast a glance in Touma's direction and shouted, "Get a job, you whore!"

Touma looked devastated, every girl in his presence watched Nagata head across the street to a motorcycle cackling like a lunatic. He swung one leg over his bike, propped it up and glanced once more at the entrance as Tatsuki and Orihime were leaving. "Hey Honny, want a ride?" The way he said it made it sound as if he had just called her '_honey_' and everyone heard, despite the roar of his motorcycle. He shouted it in front of everyone without a care in the world, openly hitting on a student. "Don't worry, you can bring your friend! We all fit!"

Ichigo barely understood why, but what he did know was Tatsuki bristled in his presence like she had sucked in a breath and held it until her face bloated and blued. He might have done it to gauge at her reaction, challenging her. Tatsuki was an Arcana now and a long time ago, Ichigo heard Touma admit that the Chariot was one of the scariest cards in the deck, "_Not for power_," he had elaborated. "_For skill._"

Secretly, Ichigo wanted to see if she would attack him as whispers exploded all around him.

"_Isn't that the new history teacher?_"

"_Oh my god, he just hit on that senior._"

"_Can't he be fired?_"

"_I'd let him hit on me._"

Ichigo scowled. _He's going to get fired for harassment._

Tatsuki's ears went a bright red. She halted in the middle of the sidewalk and faced him. "Go die!" she shouted, grabbing Orihime by the hand and tugging her along with her.

Nagata snickered, pulling on his helmet, and sped out of sight. By then, Touma had noticed him standing in the middle and called out to him, much to his newly-established fan base's chagrin.

Touma glowed with delight as he reached him. "I've got news."

"Have you found Keigo?" Ichigo asked dutifully.

"Not yet, but Haruka regained consciousness this morning."

Ichigo's heart plummeted into his stomach. Everything would be okay.

* * *

Arisawa Tatsuki stared at her reflection in Orihime's full-length mirror, observing the unnervingly similar characteristics she shared with her first incarnation save the cropped black hair and brown eyes. This was the first cycle that she—Honoka—had reawakened into, which meant Ageha's ancient prophesy was in the midst of fulfillment and for as long as her soul remained astray in a sea of white, she thought he had been full of shit. She never bothered giving him the benefit of the doubt, she had been too angry then. She was angry now, and restless. She had no proper grasp on her emotions or actions since the memories started pouring into her head. Acting normal was difficult, but she was trying her best. So she surrounded herself with people she liked and kept the worst of thoughts from her head to keep herself grounded and as far away from Housen Enishi possible. If she so much as sensed a sliver of his spiritual energy, she would snap his neck.

The fury was harder to tame than the rest of her emotions. Tatsuki was angry without proper reason. The memory had not yet reached her, so she hated Enishi blindly, but since the emotion was present, she assumed he did something shitty. If she gave into thought, vivid pictures flooded her head of the time she spent with the rest of the Arcana candidates in Soul Society's underground where many died and she recalled always being near the Housen family.

Orihime reentered her bedroom carrying a lacquered tray with a pair of steaming tea mugs and one of her special concoctions made of opposite ingredients. She smiled warily, having sensed the shift in her personality long before Tatsuki had time to confide in her. If anyone had a right to know about the changes she underwent, it was Orihime, her best friend. She never planned to keep the secret from her, but she wasn't sure how to get around to saying it. Someone might have already told her about the Arcana, so there might not be much left to say except that she was the Chariot.

Tatsuki sauntered to the round table where Orihime set the tray and seated herself.

Orihime quickly handed her a mug.

"Thanks," Tatsuki said, taking it. She inhaled the lemony scent dispelled from the red liquid, grateful that Orihime did tea correctly.

"I didn't think you'd come to school today," Orihime blurted nervously. "You or Kurosaki-kun."

The nervous twinge in her voice gave way to sheepishness—to her good-willed nature—full of worry.

"Yeah," Tatsuki answered crisply. "I imagined he'd be fraternizing with the Red Devil." Orihime looked thoroughly confused, so she elaborated. "Housen Touma, the drunkard that met him after school."

Recognition dawned on the auburn-haired girl and she nodded slowly in confirmation. "Wakatsuki-san warned us about him."

"I bet he did," she remarked frostily.

Orihime sat in discomfort for as long as it took for her to gather the courage to question her about everything. "Uhm, Tatsuki-chan, are you really okay?" she asked, full of concern. "Arashi-san told us about your situation—about the Arcana—and you were—"

Tatsuki wore the best smile she could muster to ease her worries. "Nothing is different," she answered calmly. "Everything is the same except I have new memories about a different past." She shook her head. "It's hard to explain, but nothing about my personally is different except—"

"You have powers now, too," Orihime finished.

Tatsuki nodded. "I have powers now."

Orihime fiddled with the cuffs of her sweater. "A dangerous war is about to happen," she said fearfully. "Everyone is talking about it and what it could provoke and I don't understand it."

"Some things are better left without understanding," Tatsuki replied. "This is a war between Soul Society and the Arcana; it has nothing to do with you. Nothing will happen."

"But you and Kurosaki-kun—"

"I'm not involved," Tatsuki clarified. "I don't know what Ichigo's doing, but I'm not taking any part in this."

"He doesn't have any power," Orihime continued, unable to contain the emotion. "He could get hurt."

Tatsuki felt strange about watching her fall apart for Kurosaki Ichigo. She wanted to say something, but swallowed it down. There was no need to blurt unnecessary things. "No, he doesn't, but he found in Wakatsuki Haruka what he was searching for his entire existence," she elaborated, observing the change in her friend's expression. "The martyr—the girl scapegoat, The End. He's found a difficult person to save and won't stop until he has all the power in the world to accomplish it. Truth be told, Ichigo is as big a part of this cycle as the rest of us, without him, we probably would have never awakened."

"Do you think he can save her?" Orihime asked quietly.

Tatsuki thought long and hard about her answer. "No," she said briefly, taking a gulp of tea. "Not a chance in hell."

Orihime was a cross between defeated and devastated.

"You don't have to give up on your feelings for what you saw," Tatsuki added. "People like Wakatsuki Haruka aren't deserving of happiness."

"Why would you say that?" Orihime asked, stricken.

"Why?" Tatsuki repeated. "Wakatsuki Haruka is Housen Nagisa, that's why, and Housen Nagisa helped turn us into monsters. Even I think Ichigo deserves better than that scheming, manipulative Queen."

It wasn't until after she had finished her tea that Tatsuki realized she had said terrible things. She let her anger take control. It twisted and churned inside her making her feel hideous and she didn't want to give into the resentment because it meant this was not a nightmare but reality.

She lived in peace, a wandering soul with her heart at ease carried by shallow milky white waves that traveled as far as her memory did. She resigned to stay Oblivion's permanent resident because for the first time in centuries, she had not felt neither physical nor emotional pain and now she couldn't escape it.

The pain was tangible and the memories fresh.

"I'm sorry," Tatsuki said finally, standing up. "I need to go."

Orihime tried getting to her feet, but Tatsuki lifted a hand to stop her. She settled back into her cushion. "Where are you going?"

"I need to talk to the Red Devil about Keigo," she confessed. "He's not going to find himself."

* * *

Ichigo reconsidered the sighting of three Housen in one day given Haruka's unexpected awakening. He joined Touma for his visit and entered a nervous wreck. Since she had been in the hospital, he hadn't tried visiting her because of his home situation. He couldn't leave his sister's alone while his father remained out of sight, especially with every Arcana threatening to kill them in order to complete the cycle.

The trip to her ward didn't help. His heart was lodged in his throat and his mind bringing back memories he thought he had suppressed, like the kiss and confession she gave him. He didn't have an answer.

Touma paused in front of the door, looking from one end to the next. Ichigo noticed the gold flecks in his eyes, a sign of the Arcana. He didn't know what it meant. He didn't ask.

Touma pushed open the door without knocking to a white room tacked in charcoal drawings. Haruka sat in the middle of the bed, hunched over a sketchbook lying flat on the table, her fingers soot-black from the excess charcoal usage. The drawing reminded him a lot of the painting she did about Death long ago, but he could see shapes. He turned away from the pictures and noticed her hair sat colorless all around her face, bone-white.

Haruka glimpsed up at him, then Touma. "Mark."

"What?"

"Show me your symbol."

"Oh, right." Touma unbuckled his belt and dropped his zipper. He inched the fabric of his drawers down a few notches for Haruka to see his numerical number fading away into the shape of an inverted pentangle. "It's almost done."

Ichigo might have freaked out had he not seen the mark before. In fact, when Touma squealed in the bathroom and ran to tell him, he punched him for dropping his pants in front of his sisters.

"What are the symbols for?" Ichigo asked, plopping down at the foot of her bed.

"They are a brand. The Originals have it," she answered. "The Lovers can use magic that transforms them, as well as others, learned from the Magician's tomes, but they cannot adopt the mark."

"Do you have one?"

"Yes, it's on my ass."

She was sounding a lot like Nagata. The sarcastic look she shot him was the spitting image of the Death Arcana and he found himself irritated—a deep anger.

"What's your problem?" he demanded.

Haruka rolled her eyes and continued crushing the charcoal over the paper.

"Don't worry about her," Touma cut in, belting his pants. "Faye tried to kill her early this morning and you never came to visit her."

"How would you know that?" he asked, looking straight at her.

"I know everything," she answered without acknowledging him. "I'm not stupid."

"Nobody said you were stupid," he argued.

She frowned. "You were thinking it."

"No, I wasn't!"

Her eyes met his, liquid gold and shining under the dye of sunset flooding her room. He felt that look throb in his chest and her words stab through it. "Why didn't you visit me? I said I loved you."

"Lo-loved me?" he stammered, face heated. "No you didn't! You said like!"

His correction flew over her head. "I even kissed you!"

Touma raised his hands as if in surrender. "I shouldn't be in here."

"You sent your brothers to kill my sisters!" Ichigo snapped, his voice stopped Touma dead in his tracks. "Touma hasn't stopped following me around in three days!"

"Hey, I do you the favor of dropping you off at school," Touma said, offended. "I even take your sisters to school."

"Do you hear him?"

"I didn't send them!" she retorted. "They're being assholes and stamping my name on everything to legitimize it. I bet he told you I was dying!"

Ichigo snapped toward Touma. "So she wasn't dying?"

"To her credit, not even death wants her," Touma replied shamelessly.

Haruka grumbled beneath her breath, something that sounded a lot like, "_They're always ruining everything._"

"Just get out!" he ordered.

"I'll be getting lunch," Touma announced, leaving the room.

There was a vase of red peonies on the other side of the room, clashing violently against the stark white wall and blackened drawings she tacked to the wall. He looked back at her, sallow skinned with bone-white hair and golden eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence.

"You don't have to be, I should have assumed En and Touma were doing something stupid." Haruka ran the back of her head across her cheek, smudging her cheek with charcoal. "En wants to complete the cycle."

Ichigo leaned forward, brushing his finger across the smear, but it didn't fade. "But you already knew it was Yuzu and Karin."

"I always knew," she said honestly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I hoped things would be different."

"How?"

"That everything would be okay," she replied, averting her eyes to the window. "But at this time, I can only wait for the end."

He couldn't bring himself to ask what that meant, the answer clear in her eyes. She might not have been dying now, but she in the end she would and his stomach lurched. He wished his words could inspire hope in her, even a flicker would be fine so long as she looked upon the world knowing that terrible things would happen knowing they would get better without sacrifice.

"How much longer?" he asked suddenly.

Haruka faced him, eyes losing their golden flecks and returning to the pale blue he knew. "Days."

She pushed her body from the bed, taking the sheet of paper from the desk giving him enough of a window to glimpse at the faded numeral on her wrist he had never seen before. He followed her about the room with a steady gaze, watching as she tacked the new drawing in the empty space near the bottom. The entire wall was covered by its darkness, the strange shapes coming alive like serpents in grass, pulsing against the bits of white surface.

Haruka stalled at his side, taking in the sight of her work. She had many more stacks of paper to continue, but her wrist had started cramping and her desire to continue had dwindled the instant Ichigo entered the room.

Ichigo reached for her wrist, plucking it off the bed and turning it face up. The mark was present, an imprint on her skin. He ran his finger over it, feeling the bone underneath and the soft stretch of skin covering it.

"It's a lemniscate," she said, looking up, "an infinity symbol because the Cycle is endless. We are forever immortal. We can die tomorrow and be reborn in a year or ten."

"If you died today…"

He couldn't bring himself up to say it.

"…I wouldn't come back," she answered. "The Cycle ends with me."

"Is that why you said those things?"

His cheeks were red, but his tone inscrutable.

"I don't want to pull a Romeo and Juliet, so let's pretend it didn't happen," she said immediately, pulling her wrist free of his grasp.

He sat dumbfounded. "What?"

Haruka waved her hand in dismissal as she clambered back on her bed. "It's completely fine, I won't put a dent in your life. You'll live a fulfilled life."

"You don't know that," he retorted, again feeling annoyed.

"The Hermit's Eye never lies," she said. "I've seen the future and it is good. You will live through this. None of your friends will die and your sisters will be unhurt."

"But you will," he said, furious.

"Yeah. The Cycle ends with me."

Something needed to be done. He needed something to happen to ease his turmoil. He had no words.

"You know Romeo and Juliet both die at the end," he said suddenly.

"Oh really?" She looked impressed. "Well, I don't read."

"Then why would you compare it to that?" he asked.

Without batting an eyelash, she answered, "Oh, I heard it in a movie." She shrugged. "I mean it, despite the horrible reference. We should pretend none of this happened and be on with our lives."

"You can't decide that on your own," he blurted, face as red as a tomato. He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stop the word vomit. "I can't stop thinking about it, you idiot."

And though he couldn't stare her in the eyes, he noticed her cheeks burn a deep pink.

He practically admitted to what he perceived as his feelings for Haruka, blurted them out thoughtlessly. Nagata and Touma had been forcing feelings on him before she awakened as Nagisa that he never imagined anything would happen until she kissed him and said she liked him. In that instant, despite the initial shock of having experienced it all in front of an audience, he felt relieved, like something heavy had been lifted off his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about it since. He couldn't remember what her lips felt on his anymore and that irritated him.

Had it all been a sign? Did he have an ulterior motive to protecting her? Was that it?

The sudden awkward bubble that formed from his admittance made it hard to concentrate on the silence and she seemed restless, as if nobody had ever said they liked her before. She just sat there, trying to sketch but failing to focus when she stole unconscious glances of him. He felt her eyes burning into the side of his face and turned to her many times when he was certain she was staring at her drawing.

Ichigo glanced at her casually. "What do we do now?"

Haruka fussed, drawing her blankets over her legs. "I don't think any option is appropriate."

"Not if you're always this morbid," he complained, pointing out her work.

She smiled passively. "I'll never stop being so morbid."

"Good, but you haven't answered my question yet."

Haruka pushed aside the table sitting between them and moved to sit beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder and took his hand, surprising him. "Just today is fine, but tomorrow might not be."

"Today is fine."

Ichigo wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her small frame closer to his and rested his cheek on the top of her head, able to smell the flowery soap in her hair.

The next time Haruka lifted her head up to him, he kissed her.

Today was all he needed.

* * *

**Beta'd**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: Happy New Years everyone! I'm late for very hilarious reasons, but let's skim over that. Awwws, what a way to end the year, huh? Where's the romance at? There it is! I'm going to regret writing this later, but the hell with it.

Many thanks to: **reality deviant**, **ruler of dragons** (hey, girl, hey), and **Aries01xD** (No problemo! Oh god, that was my favorite too. I have been dying to write it for like...several months.)

Thank you for reading!


	36. D-10

**Chapter Thirty Five**, "D-10"

Every second mattered, Arisawa Tatsuki firmly believed it, and every moment wasted was a different fear brought to light. She tried questioning the lapse of time between the last day she saw Asano Keigo and how easily it had been for the rest of the Arcana to put his retrieval on the back burner. It infuriated her, more than it felt natural, and she searched for hours to find Touma's secret dwelling after learning it had been his job to find him in the first place.

Although Ichigo had complained about the Devil Arcana stalking him from morning to night, Touma was not at his home when she dropped by for a visit. Tatsuki turned away to leave, but he assured her Haruka might know where he was and that he was willing to call her.

Tatsuki suppressed the urge to sigh. "Shouldn't she be…sleeping?" _Not dying_—she had been dying to say that, but Ichigo was smitten with the Arcana Queen and she knew better than to say something insulting he wouldn't understand. Honestly, she hardly did herself. Nagisa was to blame for it all, the reason she had to die and come back as a monster, who dealt with a persistent headache and memories of four distant lifetimes she never wanted. The emotion to dislike Haruka was ingrained in her and she bent her will to it because the Arcana in her wished to overshadow her humanity.

Ichigo had reached Haruka, calling her on speaker. "You busy?" he asked in greeting.

"Hello, Honoka," came Haruka's smooth reply.

Tatsuki tensed at the sound of the name, hands clenching. "Hello," she said through gritted teeth, her head started to throb. Nagata started calling her by that name since she started experiencing the headaches and hadn't stopped, no matter how firmly she clung to her identity.

"How'd you know Tatsuki was here?" demanded Ichigo. "I never mentioned her."

"Because I know everything," she replied easily. "Give her the phone and get me off speaker. You don't get to know where Touma is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo grumbled, but proffered his phone, albeit reluctantly, after the radio silence that was her response.

Tatsuki took it off speaker and held it to her ear. "Hi, Wakatsuki, are you doing better?"

No matter how she worded it, it was feigned concerned.

"You're going to need to write this address down," Haruka suggested, moving along. "Touma is staying with a friend. She's not home now, but she will be in an hour and if she sees you she'll misunderstand and cause you trouble. You don't need another stalker."

She didn't catch that. "Another what?"

"Nagata. You don't need another Nagata bothering you. This woman is a she-devil. Worse than Hell. So did you find that something to write with?"

She searched her pockets for something to write with but came up empty handed. She made a writing gesture at Ichigo who slunk back into his house for a pad and pencil. Once they were both in her hands, Haruka gave her directions to Touma's location. She opened her mouth to show her appreciation, but the girl interrupted.

"The cold can soothe the pain, your headaches," she said knowingly. "If the pain escalates too much, you might want to come to me. I can ease it, but only if you are willing."

"No, thank you." Tatsuki hung up and handed Ichigo his phone back, thanking him for letting her use it. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

It nearly took half an hour to arrive at the apartment building Haruka's directions showed her to and almost ten minutes to figure out her less than legible scribbling to find the apartment on the second floor. When she knocked, he answered, his face a mold of disappointed lines because he had been expecting his lady friend with a bottle of liquor in his hand.

Frustrated by his lackluster acknowledgment, Tatsuki bombarded him for answers about Keigo, stalking her way into the apartment and slamming the door shut behind her. He easily dismissed her inquiries, speaking only after taking deep gulps of his alcohol. Any ordinary man would have already been suffering the consequences of the excess consumption, but he was completely lucid.

Tatsuki snatched the whiskey from his hand once she reached her boiling point. She had been talking to him long enough to see that he was more concerned about feeling a buzz than tracking down Keigo.

"Have you even tried?" she snapped.

"Tried? Yes." Touma eyed his confiscated whiskey. "The problem is Nagisa gave me an order and you know things get messy if you disobey her. There really aren't enough loopholes in her order to stop me from stalking Kuro-chan, so I do my best to gather information."

She eased up. Orders rang a bell deep in the back of her head. She believed him. "What do you know?"

"The obvious," he answered. "Yamato probably took him somewhere—don't look at me like that, I'm working on it. He's only targeted Evokers lately, so he either wants us all dead or is gathering us, which means he'll strike Soul Society in search of the Tower. Well, who am I kidding? He will go for the Tower. He has a better chance at recruiting him than any of the others."

"What use are you to him? The Evokers?" she questioned, brows furrowed and arms crossed.

"If the Evokers are dead, nobody will be protecting the crown. Nagisa is strong on her own, no doubt about it, but she's not going to fight her own brother. This makes it easier for him to take control and when he takes control, well, you'd be shit out of luck."

Tatsuki frowned, the headache growing persistent as a few memories flickered into her memory of two different Chariot hosts. The recollections were vivid now and she understood that in her situation it meant she would turn completely. She didn't want to stop being herself. "You think he can kill Enishi?"

"Kill him? No." Touma shook his head. "Erasing him is a whole different story."

"But even Enishi turns coward when facing a brother," she said darkly, face inscrutable.

Touma grinned suspiciously. "That Chariot, is why you were always at his side."

* * *

Ichigo entered her room in the morning.

"I didn't expect you to be up," he admitted, observing her curiously. She stood off to the wall pinned with hundreds of overlapping sheets of paper covered in charcoal scribbles and shapes. She looked to be rearranging them, tearing down the ones she found disagreeable and adding from a fresh stack to her left.

"I don't sleep well," she replied. "Psychosis. I endure a lot of it." She waved to an empty chair by the opened window. "I'd introduce you to my mother, but you probably can't see her. That's fine. I know she isn't real." She sighed, voice lowering. "You're argument's invalid when you're dead, mom, so shut up."

Ichigo felt a chill strum down his spine. "Are you sure she's not really there?" he asked, thinking a ghost could actually be seated there because the reality was harder to take in.

"Positive. Her spirit died when she did. The curse of birthing Arcana. It's a terrible fate. Oblivion." Haruka stood pensive and silent for several minutes. "Let me change the subject to something less morbid, I'll be able to pinpoint Keigo's location today. I have enough power. Tell Honoka that she can breathe easy and focus on that project she's thinking of procrastinate on."

"What project?"

"The one you've been assigned to together. Enishi is a terrible distraction, but he'll be too busy finding me a friend to care."

He shook his head. It was too much information to take because he didn't have a project with Tatsuki and it sounded strange that Enishi would go through the trouble of finding Haruka a friend. If he could keep her isolated in a tower where no one could reach her, he probably would have done it. He'd become her only contact with the outside.

"Slow down," he said, processing it all slowly. "What are you talking about?"

Haruka faced the chair and remained quiet for a while before turning. Her eyes were strange, one fully golden and the other its natural pale blue. "Sorry," she said lowly. "I'm in a different place right now."

He approached her, taking her gently by the shoulders and led her back to bed. "Maybe some sleep?" he suggested, voicing his concerns. "You could use some."

She drew her sketchbook close, prepared to open it. She stared blankly at her blankets. "I don't want to want more time, but you make it hard," she whispered, more to herself than him as she clambered on. She lifted her eyes to him. "Sit with me."

"You sure?"

"Please."

He sidled in beside her. She leaned into his shoulder, resting her head on it, and closed her eyes. "I promise I won't sleep long."

Ichigo took her hand, feeling her fingers intertwine with his in response. "It might help to sleep."

A few minutes after curling against him, Haruka was taking deep shallow breaths. He stared down at her for many moments and back up to the empty chair sitting by the window, remembering her words. She saw her mother when she tuned out of reality. He had heard her talking to herself before on various occasions, whispering beneath her breath to someone that was never there. He always liked to think there was someone listening, only he didn't see them because he had no spiritual energy to do so.

Haruka did not sleep long. Not nearly an hour, not nearly half of one. She woke with a solemn golden stare and a temper. Her drawings suffered the brunt of her frustration, but soon, even the room started to feel the strain of the dark energy rolling off her. Cracks ran up along the pastel wallpaper, peeking through the spaces between the sketches she pinned against them,

He approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder feeling a painful sting in his palm upon making contact. He jerked away. "Haruka!" he snapped, sensing the rise in her energy on him like a weight. The walls all around them started to squeak and the windows suffered a strong wave of her power that decorated them with sleek jagged lines. "You need to calm down. The whole building will collapse if you keep this up."

The suffocating energy disappeared instantly. She woke from her trance with a clatter of the charcoal falling from her hands and snapping in two. She turned to him. "It's not safe for you to be here, Ichigo."

"Why not?"

She gave him a furtive smile. "You'll be late to school. Please go. Come back tomorrow. I'll explain everything then."

Ichigo might have persisted if she had not sounded so pleading. He had every reason to want to stay, but he couldn't deny her anything either. It felt natural to appease her and despite her declining health, she was protected by her ferocious brothers and with them on the job it seemed redundant to have any others.

As he stepped out the doorway, he paused. "Tell your brother to lay off Tatsuki."

"He won't stop."

"Order him or something."

"I'll try," she said sincerely. "Don't cross the street early. Getting hit by a car is no fun."

* * *

"Ichigo told me you've been bothering Arisawa."

Nagata sneered. "Of course, he'd squeal to you."

Haruka ripped another finished drawing from her book; the strokes in the charcoal were lighter in comparison to the rest. She started on the next, not facing her brother. "You'll be fired. I've seen your bills, you need the job."

"I'm not going to stop," he stated, oddly passionate about his endeavor. "I'm going to keep hitting on her until she punches me in the face, I don't care if costs me the teaching gig."

She lifted her face to him, eyes narrowed in uncertainty. He just said he wanted to hit on her until she punched him, which was cause for concern. "Why…?"

"Why?" he asked mockingly. "Because she needs to do it."

"Oh god, what did you do to her?" she demanded, disdained. She stopped all thought process, staring him down for answers. "Did you kill her kitten or gut her lizard? Did you seduce her sister"—at his creased eyebrows, she gasped—"_her brother?_ You seduced her brother?"

"For fucks sake, shut up now! It's the only way she acquiesces with her Arcana memories," he divulged, still shaking his head at her. "The angrier she gets the faster she'll stop pussyfooting around and get on deck with Kurosaki's super training. You're obviously too busy trying to die to take her place and since Shima's as dead as dirt, we have no alternative but to go to the source of all evil herself."

"Shima isn't dead. He's just not—"

"Then where the shit is he? He used to be your self-appointed bitch. It doesn't make sense."

Haruka tried not averting her gaze, but he noticed. "He is doing something important, but he will come soon."

"I'm this close"—he curled his forefinger and this thumb near, leaving only a miniscule space in between—"to killing him and having him replaced by someone more reliable."

"Would you like to take his place?" she asked curiously. "It's easier transferring cards than finding a new person. You can still be Death. You can be any tarot you want."

He grimaced. "But every tarot comes with a heavy price. I'm used to Death without having to pay the toll for the rest of the Arcana. I don't care how strong it'll make me."

"Then Shima stays."

"Why not Ichigo?" he suggested.

"Ichigo can't do it," she answered immediately.

"It's not something he would be opposed to—powers are powers, especially in these times."

"He has power in our cycle, I never said he didn't," she clarified. "He simply cannot be a Tarot because he is already a Trigger."

Nagata looked flabbergasted. "Okay, let me get this straight," he begun, dragging a chair across the room only to sit on her bed. "You are telling me that you're not the Trigger."

"That would be redundant. I'm The World. A Tarot cannot be a Trigger," she explained, though somewhere in the recess of her mind she might have acknowledged the fact that she never clarified any of this. "You can only be one, never both. I never confirmed or denied it because it was convenient for me to say nothing when you hadn't realized I was Nagisa."

"You said the Trigger could be anyone, vaguely referencing the rest of the Arcana. It made sense that way because the Arcana hosts were predestined to make eventual contact with one another. It could only be one of us. That's why I was sure it was you. I met you once before and I started to experience the changes. Touma never corrected me."

"You met Ichigo early on as well. Everyone that is a part of the Arcana has made contact with him one way or another. Have you never noticed?"

"Not everyone. What about the old Magician and our Priestess? They were outsiders, awakened outside."

"I never said there was only one Trigger. There are two this cycle. Ichigo and the shinigami called Kuchiki Rukia."

"Are you shitting me right now?" he demanded, slapping a hand over the drawing she was in the midst of completing. "This sounds like really important information the whole fucking Arcana should be aware of. Why don't we know it? Why has it never occurred to you to write a guidebook so we stop having these important revelations a thousand years after our creation?"

Haruka shrugged finally meeting his exasperated gaze. "In all the torture and dying we did in the underground laboratories, I suppose it slipped my mind," she said casually. "Wouldn't writing a guidebook be stupid? That'd mean anyone could get their hands on it and know things only we should. It's stupid."

"Don't be a smartass. This is serious."

"It's not serious. Ichigo fulfilled a predetermined destiny written into his DNA and helped awaken the slumbering Arcana within Karakura Town for the Fifth Cycle."

"He's the reason his sisters are at risk of dying," Nagata pressed, "and you haven't told him."

"You won't tell him either. I forbid it," she said warningly. "This is information he has no need for."

"Not until he wakes up with a tattoo he doesn't remember getting!" shouted Nagata.

Haruka pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes starting to fleck gold without her notice. "I will tell him that his continued exposure to me has given him a gift. It wouldn't be the first time this happens in his world."

"A gift. Is that it? Once he learns what this _gift _means, he'll strip you of your powers. He'll kill our cycle."

Haruka smiled. "It will be too late by the time he realizes he can do it."

"Stop predicting the future. Even you can't be that certain."

"You're right, but by then, I'll be dead," she responded assuredly. "So the future will be no concern of mine."

"You're a shitty girlfriend you know?"

"Yes, I will be terrible." Haruka leaned into her pillows with a small smile. "He will heal. I will, eventually, be a distant memory in his life."

"You're a shitty person in general. Conjure up some compassion; you're supposed to be the good one in this mess."

She signed. "Compassion is an anchor to this world. I am no longer bound to it. You be the compassionate one, Touma will be inconsolable and you will need him."

"Last I checked, I rarely gave a damn what happened around this joint so long as I get to do what I want. Compassion is useless to me. Touma can console himself."

Haruka lifted a sheet of paper to him, drawn in the center was the lemniscate she wore prominently on the inside of her wrist and all around it were the twenty other Arcana symbols and numbers. Squeezed between the jumbled mess were names he recognized from every cycle since the first. He picked apart all his past names from the others and lifted his eyes to meet her fully golden gaze.

"What is this?" he asked, uncomfortable with the sudden feel of her spiritual energy circulating the room, clotting the air vents, silencing the noise. Losing control of one's power was the first sign of the end.

One Arcana before had died of natural causes once, so she wasn't the first. His illness was too horrible to heal upon rebirth and though it had remained dormant long enough, it eventually awoke as the cycle came together. His sister speculated that a completed cycle could save his life, but by the time the last Arcana host was found it had been too late.

Nagata had observed the symptoms, watched the black energy slowly overpower his fragile body. His Arcana abilities activated on their own, making it dangerous for anyone to be near, so his eyes shifted from green to golden at random intervals and because of it he experienced a string of continuous mood swings. A natural death was painful, always, but the vastness that awaited it was far worse. He caught a glimpse of it once just as the First Cycle came to its conclusion and never forgot it.

"You're like a teddy bear with a knife. At some point, everyone will have been drawn to you for one reason or another and you would have already stabbed them all at least twice." She let the sheet of paper fall over her desk. "Empathy is useless to you, but it comes natural for you. You've equated death to destruction your whole existence, but you are more human than the rest of us—you feel stronger. Death is mortality. Death is renewal. Death is not just destruction. It's not bad. It's a turning point." She smiled at him, eyes losing their golden sheen. "You are hope. Protect the Arcana, protect my successor."

Nagata snapped. "Why can't you talk about your boyfriend or something instead of telling me all this cryptic bullshit I could have gone forever not knowing? Don't you have any friends—well, shit, I forgot who I was talking to, you have none."

"You don't have friends either."

"Because I chose not to! There's a difference!"

"The difference is I'm socially awkward and you don't want the Honoka Incident to happen—"

Nagata fisted the front of her sweatshirt and tugged her forward harshly. "I know what you're trying to do, quit while you're ahead before I make you!" He shoved her back harshly.

Haruka stopped her body from hitting the bed hard with her hands. "You started it."

"You need to shut up about dying! I don't need to have it on my mind any more than I already do!" He stormed toward the door, stopping before stepping out. "Look stay here, I'll find you a friend. You're so stupid you won't listen to reason but maybe there are people out there that can still surprise you. Don't die while I'm gone."

.

.

Haruka stared at Wakamura awkwardly, her art rival for as long as she remembered and her somewhat bully. Concerned, she pulled Nagata off to the side as the enigmatic drawings pinned to the wall drew Wakamura's attention away from their secret exchange.

"You brought Wakamura-san?" she asked, confused.

"I thought of bringing Honoka, but she's so pro-Ichigo and Orihime, she'd guilt trip you out of the relationship," he explained, lowering his voice. "I also thought of bringing Orihime, but I'd be facing some form of revenge later for putting you in the situation especially with how many years the girl spent liking the guy and I know how possessive you are with your lovers. Honestly, I don't see what's so attractive about Ichigo, but at this point, I don't give a shit because if you didn't listen to me about Shiki, you won't hear reason about Ichigo."

"He's not my lover," she corrected, ignoring the rest.

"Not yet."

"I don't like you talking about me that way."

Nagata grinned. "Face it Nagi, you're all types of disaster during a relationship, but hell, you are suave."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You are a female Casanova."

Haruka stared at him unfazed. "You just called me a hoe, didn't you?"

He snorted. "Did you just say _hoe_?"

"Casanova was a man-whore," she stressed. "I am very particular about my chastity. I don't open my legs for every man interested."

"Come on, we didn't have to go there," snapped Nagata.

"Do you think I host orgies on my hospital bed?" she continued, pleased with the disgusted look on his face. "How many men are you putting under my belt? I'm your sister; you take this Casanova bullshit to your mother."

"She's your mother too!"

"Not in this lifetime!"

"The intent of this joke was lost in your idea of Casanova! I meant it as a compliment!"

"So being a whore is a good thing?"

Wakamura turned slowly, arching an eyebrow.

"I meant you were a smooth-talker, Casanova was a whore but he couldn't have attracted all those women without being such a suave individual—you know what? Fuck this. I'm not exhausting any energy having this conversation with you. Do whatever the fuck you want with your private life! Live, read a book for once, have a kid or two—I don't give a shit—but know, to me, you'll be conceiving through the Holy Spirit, it'll be just like the Virgin Mary except every man that touches you inappropriately dies a painful death—don't you dare say anything."

He stormed out as she was about to do just that.

"So do your homeroom teachers usually call you a whore?" asked Wakamura with a nasty smile.

Haruka returned to her seat on the bed without uttering a word.

* * *

"The enemy Arcana remain inactive," Urahara announced, wrench and screwdriver in hand as he wiped his brow of sweat and approached Wakatsuki Hiko's group. He had arrived in Soul Society to fulfill a request and had since been working non-stop alongside his ex-subordinate, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, and Takamatsu Hiroki on one of many secret plans meant to counter any of Nagisa's ploys. "How are the others taking the awakening?"

"I left Muguruma and Ukitake in charge," Hiko answered, observing the work put into the small establishment. It was built in only two days and it already had the semblance of a comfortable home. "If they split the work, they can have the others up to speed before the enemy makes a move, but the Tower's proving difficult."

"He's an Evoker, isn't he?"

Hiko nodded. "He's never met her, but he knows his place is with others of his kind and that his duty is to protect Nagisa," he elaborated. "Once he's attuned to his memories, I've advised Muguruma to have him sealed and treat him as an enemy."

Kurosaki Isshin took the time to inspect the structure, joining Takamatsu who automatically erased any of his concerns about it.

"Have you contacted The Judgment?"

"No, I suspect he is preparing for the worst. It's his army that is at the helm of this operation, he has things to consider." Hiko looked over Urahara's shoulder. "How is this coming along?"

"It'll be done before the week is over," Urahara answered. "I talked to Sui-san. She agreed to strengthen the barriers for as long as necessary."

Hiko nodded. "Everything is going accordingly then."

* * *

**xl**: I bet no one expected Wakamura to make an appearance again. She's been such a minor character, but I agree with Nagata, Haruka doesn't have friends (at least not female friends) and I think she can use some girl talk. How Wakamura will solve any of this...well, it's still a mystery. lol

Thank you to my beta **LULuckyTiger** for proofing the mistakes in this.

And sorry to my readers for taking two months to update a new chapter! Many, many thanks to: **animelover56348**, **ruler of dragons**, **my Little Dreamer**, and **Beira **for reviewing the previous chapter!

_P.S. - __**Make sure to check out the poll running in my profile page because it might just result in faster updates! It's the reader's choice what gets updated every**** week!**_


	37. D-09

**Chapter Thirty Six**, "D-09"

Morning came with distinct expectations. Haruka desired to accomplish many things in the span of twenty-four hours, most of which were impossible due to the deteriorating state of her human shell. Today, upon waking, she sensed a dread so great and paralyzing it threw her back a thousand years when she feared death the most. She lay in bed unable to catch her breath, entire body bathed in a cold sweat, drowning in waves of trepidation—burdened once more by an emotion she thought to have abandoned in her youth—until she was thrown beneath the current to the worst realization she could have ever imagined. A name appeared in her mind because the dread slithering through every blood vessel in her body belonged to a man, who killed every Arcana to pledge loyalty to her for two whole cycles, who in kindness rewarded each a slow, drawn out deaths so as to burn them into her memory.

Kosuda Tokujiro. A daunting crazed man that towered above most with a hardened face and shaven head. He used to look upon her with piercing, knowing eyes. He challenged her knowledge and conviction. He sought to punish cycle after cycle because like every other person, he needed someone to take the blame—the culpability she willingly burdened.

She listened to the altered beat of her heart on the EKG before her body gave into wild spasms. Pain. Only pain. It lasted long enough to desire death to take her then so she would no longer feel it.

Haruka remained in observation after the seizure during which she heard, from one of the round-the-clock nurses, that her father currently visited with her doctor about a possible discharge. She questioned the probability herself, though mostly in silence as she picked up a charcoal pencil to remake the drawing she started on the day she arrived.

New lines were drawn, dark and rough in manner, this time creating new images of a harsher reality.

She found herself distracted by the time her father entered the room. He greeted her.

"How do you feel?" he asked. "I heard about what happened this morning."

"Of your betrayal as well," she said mockingly. "Kosuda has been relieved of his prison sentence and you are to blame."

"That has not been ascertained, Nagisa," he steadily replied.

"You think I cannot feel the presence of him? He is a failed Arcana, but one nonetheless, and I am their queen. Their lives are mine."

"So you say, yet you renounce them. All of them. You want to leave them to their fates."

"Does it pain you?" She lifted her eyes to him, a striking, and electric blue hue dusted in gold. She sensed his disquiet. "To have your mother forsake you?"

Hiko turned away, eyebrows drawn in rage. "I haven't been notified of his release."

"You will be in time," she assured him. "Do not fret."

"I am not upset."

"I could read you with my eyes closed." Her eyes fluttered shut, but her hands did not halt. "You feel great uncertainty that you were not notified first and far greater shame to acknowledge my claim. I want you to answer my question because your feelings are so tangible to me, they were nearly overbearing then."

"I won't indulge your childish whims, Nagisa. That question is irrelevant to me." Hiko seated himself away from her as sunlight poured into the room, chasing away its shadows. "We have a more pressing matter. I spoke to your doctor and he's described your condition as 'so far deteriorated that the only hope of recuperation would be nothing short of a miracle.'"

"Do I have to die here as well?"

"No," he eased. "The decision is yours, but of course, if you decide to leave, you will be properly attended to."

"A hospice in my own home?"

"If you want."

"I want to go to a house in my possession," she decided. "It is outside of Karakura Town and only I know it. I want to be there alone."

"I will have it arranged for tomorrow morning, is that too early for a discharge?" When she shook her head, he continued, "Give me the address."

"You can Google it under my previous name, you remember it, yes?"

"Yes. Tsuchiya Aya."

Haruka reached into a drawer nearby and tossed a sleek credit card to Hiko, who caught it.

He stared down at it quizzically. "What is this?"

"To purchase the property," she answered. "Don't worry; there is more than enough there. You can even get yourself an ice cream afterward."

He marveled at it, turning it over on his hand. "This is one of the Magician's creation, no?"

"Actually, you have Shima to thank for the creation."

A moment passed before Hiko spoke again, this time seeking a change of subject. "You need to stay away from Kurosaki Ichigo."

"I will not," she answered fluidly.

"You are subjecting that boy to unnecessary pain," warned Hiko from his seat on the windowsill. "Break it off now, while you still can."

Haruka continued rearranging her drawings. When she felt they were aligned perfectly, a new vision distorted the previous image and she needed to start again. She filled and tore ten sketchbooks since she first arrived. Her behavior unnerved the hospital staff so she never dealt with the same group of specialists.

"You are far too young to concern yourself with whom I decide to date," Haruka commented evenly, holding a piece of black paper over an empty space on the wall. "As the children of this generation say '_check yourself before you wreck yourself._'"

"I'm your father!" he affirmed. "And nobody says that anymore!"

She shrugged. "Only biologically."

"Do you truly have time to be selfish with that boy?" he demanded. "He has been through enough. He doesn't need your death on his shoulders!"

"I have never been selfish. I have always wanted peace. I existed in a realm where I believed wrongs could be forgiven—where Shinigami and Arcana had a chance of coexisting without hatred binding them together." Haruka dropped the page over the nearest flat surface and turned to Hiko. "If my previous lives have taught me anything it's that I need to leave those ideas behind. Even I know when to quit and I believe all those horrible deaths I endured give me the right to be a little selfish."

"He is only a teenage boy, Nagisa," Hiko stressed. "He hasn't lived four other lives. He deserves a chance at a normal life and you need to let him have it. Take your Arcana and go. Live off the radar, forget revenge."

"I can't stop what's already been put in motion."

"But you can stop Kurosaki Ichigo from becoming involved."

Haruka looked at him directly, fed up with his persistence. She handed him favor after favor as long as she existed, he was the last person she wanted nagging at her over her love life because she had pardon so many of the terrible things he committed against her. "I like him. I want to be selfish with him. I want a minute of happiness before I go. Why is that wrong?" she asked firmly, biting back the clawing emotion in her chest. "Why is it so wrong that I want something when I have never wanted anything before? What did I do? What is so terrible about me that everyone thinks I don't deserve this moment? I just want _this_ moment—a minute, a second. I just want him to be here with me for as long as it takes. It's not forever, Hiko, it's a moment. It will mean everything to me, but in ten years, it'll only be a memory to him."

Hiko remained stunned.

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, heart drumming nervously. Tears pricked in her eyes and she willed them away. She hated giving into them and the weakness it represented. "Let me be selfish. Only nine days are left," she continued, swallowing her tears. "It'll be over before then. He won't suffer long. Someone else will help him, someone better than me. I've seen it."

She faced the doorway. "He will come soon," she said, changing the subject. "You should return to Soul Society."

Hiko nodded reluctantly and disappeared out the window.

She hated heightened emotions, but it only meant the time was sparse. She only wondered what she might do with it.

The door opened five minutes after Hiko took his leave and the subject of their conversation entered, dressed casually for the weekend. She greeted him absently as was expected of her and he took a seat on the bed beside her. He pulled the satchel off his body and set it in the middle of the mattress.

"Touma sent this. He imagined you were bored," he said, pushing it closer to her. "It's pretty heavy."

Haruka took it, fingers brushing across his knuckles, and pulled it onto her lap. She smiled. "Thank you."

She found her PSP inside with several new games to keep her entertained. She popped in a disk and switched it on, prepared to embark on a mysterious adventure jam-packed with zombies.

She enjoyed the first levels in Ichigo's silent company, fully aware of his staring. When she finally glanced up, he turned away, as though marveling at the nonsense on the walls. She slid closer to him, dropping her legs off the side of the bed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"How much longer will you stay here?" he asked.

"I'm being relocated home tomorrow," she answered. Hiko visited for that reason, to inform her that he convinced the doctor to allow her to live the last of her time in the comfort of her home. There would be round-the-clock nurses and a doctor on call for emergencies, but she would be on familiar ground and that's all she thought important. "Will you come visit? You'll be allowed to stay longer."

"Sure."

"We can watch movies and eat junk food." She moved away from him to look up at his face. "We can go on a date."

Ichigo's cheeks flushed. "A date?"

"I want to go on a date," she admitted. "You haven't asked me out yet."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "Where do you want to go?"

"Surprise me."

"Okay, let's go on a date," he agreed. "But only if you're feeling better."

Haruka leaned closer to his face. "I feel better now, but a trip to the cafeteria shouldn't be considered a date." She took his hand as an idea struck her. She wanted to forget everything Hiko said before Ichigo's arrival, set on enjoying this moment. "I can take us somewhere now. Want to see a movie? Take a stroll through the shopping mall? We can go anywhere—"

"Hold up," he interrupted. "You're still in the hospital; someone's bound to notice you're gone. I don't want to risk you getting worse."

"I'll make sure they don't."

"You can do that?"

"I can do anything." She smiled.

She read his expression. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage something that could affect her health, but he was torn with the feeling that wanted to indulge her. She could see him caving to her eagerness.

"Fine," he conceded. "Only for an hour or two, no longer than that."

Haruka kissed his cheek and climbed out of bed. "I'll put pants on."

"You're not wearing pants?" Ichigo sputtered.

She wore an oversized sweater over her underpants. She shook her head at his inquiry. "I was loitering in bed," she said innocently, digging through her pack of clothes. "I didn't need pants."

She found no pants and settled for jean shorts. She tugged off her sweater and slid into a tank top. She grabbed a jacket from her messy pack and held it out to Ichigo, whose face was burning red. He glimpsed at it.

"What's that for?"

"I want your hoodie," she said. "This is one of Touma's jackets, so it should fit."

Ichigo traded his hoodie for the jacket without protest. "Do you always wear your brother's clothes?"

"I like baggy clothes and my brothers always have the best jackets and shoes," she admitted, tugging on a pair of scuffed boots. "I haven't returned Enishi's boots. They don't fit me that well, but they're comfortable. I like your clothes too."

"I noticed."

"Do you mind?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Nope."

Haruka stood fully dressed and reached for his hand when he cupped her cheeks to plant a kiss on her lips. She smiled against his mouth, pleased by his action. It had only been a few days since the establishment of their relationship and she felt like the aggressor, but it seemed that on the right day and in the right time, the role would change.

Even once he drew back, the ghost of his lips lingered on hers and she began to think of all the different things she wanted to experience with him, some less modest than others. She figured a date was a sure start. It had only been a few days since the establishment of their relationship and she felt like the aggressor, but it seemed that on the right day and in the right time, the roles would change.

"Where are we going?" he asked, warm eyes locked on hers.

"Somewhere therapeutic, I think."

She turned away to find her messenger bag. She stuffed her sketchbook inside before draping the strap across her body.

She returned to her place before him and took his hands, picturing the area clearly. "Ready?"

"Are you sure you should be doing this?"

She answered by dodging out of the hospital room to a heavily shaded roadway. A steep slope covered in high grass and wildflowers hid the stone steps leading into pavement serving as a proper walkway for pedestrians and tourists or for bicyclists with a scenic backdrop of white sands and crashing waves.

Ichigo peered through the breaks in foliage to the sparse beach. He regarded her shrewdly. "This is therapeutic?"

Haruka led him down the staircase excitedly. "The beach is never not therapeutic. Don't fall behind."

There were few beachgoers, one or two families in opposite sides of the sand and perhaps one couple. Most of the people present came alone and were either taking in the sun or enjoying the water, despite the somewhat harsh current.

Haruka dropped her bag in a randomly chosen spot where they could sit out of earshot of the surrounding humans, but near enough to barrel straight into the water if she so desired.

Ichigo took a seat first, complaining about all the sand that got into his shoes. Haruka laughed at him before joining him in the sand. She settled in between his legs, despite his initial protest and rested her back to his chest, breathing in the salty air.

He sat stiffly for several moments, probably looking as awkward as he felt, before he finally relaxed with her in his arms. She continued to feel Kosuda's energy, thick in the atmosphere, overflowing her senses, searching for her, challenging her, mocking her. It invaded her head and drew forth the memories she worked hard to repress, so she clung to Ichigo's presence. She hid beneath the little reiatsu he had gained when she first proposed returning his powers and hoped that sliver of energy would be enough to keep that monster from her.

She took her sketchbook from her messenger bag and rested it over her propped knees to continue where she last left off. With time running thin, she'd need to finish.

"For someone who hates drawing so much, you've been doing it very frequently," he pointed out.

"There's not much I can do when I'm sitting in a hospital bed except draw things with meaning."

"Why are you hanging them up?"

"Because I want to see the bigger picture."

Ichigo leaned over slightly, pushing her forward into an uncomfortable position. She felt his chin on her shoulder and her heart accelerate.

"Are you in a rush?"

"I'm always in a rush."

"That's a lie."

"Well, when I like to be," she corrected. "Right now, I'm in a rush."

"In a rush because you think you're going to die."

"I don't think," she told him, twisting around to stare him in the face. "The doctor confirmed it. He said only a miracle could save me."

Ichigo's eyebrows knitted with disquiet. "Why?"

"It has been written that I should die for the sake of the Queen."

"For one of my sisters?" he questioned, unsuspectingly calm. "For Karin or Yuzu? Who is it?"

"Who do you think?" she responded with a secret smile.

He avoided the thought.

"You should accept Touma's offer," she suggested now that they were on the subject of Arcana. "He could do it, although he isn't the greatest teacher, he's a lot more durable than the other Arcana and he'll make a great sparring partner once you've regained your sword."

He stared at her crossly. "Will it keep him out of my house?"

"To some extent."

"Fine," he said, "but explain this to me, why do you still have NPSLE? Everyone who's made the transition to Arcana is healthy now, why aren't you?"

She touched the side of his face, drawing her fingers down his jawline. He took her hand, pulling it from him. Around them, the wind whistled and the ocean rushed against the shoreline. She listened to it all, her mind bringing back Hiko's words as she found herself smitten.

She remembered his question. "I was meant to be a weakness," she said quietly. "Everyone dies."

"Not at sixteen."

She turned away, unable to look him in the eyes any longer. The conversation and the answers, she recycled them multiple times to different people that understood her reasoning better, but none affected her in the way Ichigo did. He expressed certain honesty to her that she wished she hadn't seen because it made her reconsider.

She hesitated.

Haruka drew herself away from him, sticking her sketchbook back into her bag. She removed her boots as he stared at her inquiringly.

"What're you doing?" he called, leaving his seat behind to pursue her.

She tossed her sweater off, watching it fall into a heap atop her discarded boots. "I'm going to clear my thoughts!"

She hit the shoreline, sea rushing at her legs pushing her back. The cold prickled against her skin, the waves harsher each time they hit.

Ichigo didn't make it that far. "Haruka!"

She hesitated and it concerned her. She wanted to submerge herself in the sea and swim beneath its harsh currents until she reminded herself of her fate, of the promise she made to another much closer to her that she would die for her sake and that of the Arcana.

_The end will come._

Affection would not spell doom for her Arcana. Not again.

* * *

**Beta**: LULuckyTiger

**Thank you** Beira, reality deviant, and ruler of dragons for the continued support. Also, many thanks to any recent follows/favorites, I greatly appreciate your interest in this story.

**xl**: Haruka's insistence in death will last be highlighted here. With that said, this chapter is something of a revelation: the subject of failed Arcana will be a prominent theme in part two, the relationship between Haruka and Hiko, and Haruka's fear of Kosuda Tokujiro. This had the potential of turning into a very heavy chapter, so I balanced it out with some Ichigo and Haruka sweetness.

Anyway, the following chapters will be packed with action, emotional drama, and the completion of the Arcana.

On a curious note, I planned to keep all three parts together (as in under the same title even though once the following part starts I will restart the numbering and it'll be treated as a separate story like I did with Masquerade), but I fear that since Part 1 is ending at 41 chapters and I have no clue how long Part 2 will be, it might be a little daunting. So, the question is, would you like me to post all three parts here, or post them separately as one naturally would with a sequel?

(If I do separate the parts into individual sequels, I will change the title to this one to Paroxysm as it is the name of Part 1, but overall the story is still going to be referred to as the Thirteen series because that's what it is.)

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. There are so many things I want to explain or discuss, but I'll leave it there for everyone to comment on whatever you'd like.

Thank you for reading.


	38. D-08

**On the last chapter**(**s**): This is the cliff notes version. Keigo is still a prisoner to Arashi and Kouyou. Haruka is determined to not let affection spoil her plans to die for the sake of her Arcana, even though Ichigo plans to change her mind (he only doesn't know how). Meanwhile, in Soul Society, Kosuda Tokujiro, the Arcana Executioner, has been released and he is the only man that Haruka has ever feared.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Seven**, "D-08"

A clicking sound filtered into the room—a loud, dissonant sound that faintly reminded Asano Keigo of a past he couldn't pinpoint in his memory. His surroundings remained unfamiliar despite his recent recognition of his life as Yomohiro and the horrific experiments he endured then to become the Hanged Man.

The difference between then and now was that he understood the reason for his captivity and he wanted to be brave, but courage was difficult in his current situation. He didn't have the strength or the mind to attempt at an escape when he knew without understanding that his powers were nowhere near those of the Tsukamoto Faye, the Lovers' female counterpart and beautiful blond bombshell, or Watanabe Kouyou, the Hierophant. He was kept in a metal cage with bars that burned when touched. It always looked to be coated in an eerie glow that put a harsh weight on his body and squeezed the air from his lungs—a slow torture that lasted hours until he received a moment of respite before the cycle started again.

Keigo was expected to betray Haruka for her brother, Arashi, who wanted him to become his Evoker for when he replaced his sister as king. It seemed as though he expected more out of him than the secrets he was charged to keep when the Arcana came to be and if he spoke in honesty, he didn't like it. He wasn't used to any of it. He lived a perfectly normal life until he died and was thrown into this war he never asked for. Yet, it is ingrained in his head that he needs to fight it and that he needs to protect Wakatsuki Haruka from these people. He doesn't have a choice or say in the matter. He can't even reason with himself because his mind and body stopped listening to him a long time ago. No matter how much he wanted to run away or say the things that needed to be said, the Arcana in him prevented him from betraying The World.

Watanabe Kouyou stepped forward past a stainless white kitchen holding his bowler hat to his chest and a deceptively kind smile on his face. Without explanation, he brought Keigo to this unfamiliar home filled with colorful paintings on every wall.

He gestured for him to follow and Keigo stumbled forward. From the kitchen, they ventured through a short hallway into an expansive living area. Tall windows covered in thin drapes allowed sunlight to shine into the room where the clinking grew louder.

He stopped a step away from reaching the furniture because he spotted her, Wakatsuki Haruka, sitting in front of an easel on a stool where the light was the brightest and the blues on her canvas came alive like an underwater view of the sun breaking the ocean's surface.

"That's far enough, Kouyou," she spoke.

"Do you fear my presence?" he asked, disregarding her demand.

She laughed and the clicking noised stopped when she quit tapping her paintbrush.

Kouyou stopped behind her wearing a frown. "You insult me, Nagisa."

"I'm the one insulted," she said without turning to face him. "You came alone. I do hope my brother is treating you kindly."

"Do you think I follow your brother for his kindness?" questioned Kouyou.

"I'm not unkind, but Yamato was always the more sensible of the two," she answered in an absent tone. "I like to think I simply don't take lightly to traitors." She started tapping her brush and the clicking returned. "Please stop wasting my time and tell me what I need to do for my Evoker's safe return."

Keigo felt lighthearted as she turned to him and smiled kindly.

The older man sighed. "How much would you sacrifice for the life of one Evoker?"

"Anything and everything," she answered firmly.

"Your life for his."

In the silence, Keigo felt the hope disappear. He didn't want his life traded for hers. He wanted to do everything in his power to prevent it from happening so much that he wished he could have stopped Kouyou from even suggesting it, but he stood frozen and powerless.

Haruka left her seat, leaving behind the soft clicking noise she made with her paintbrush and extended her arm to him as a cloud of smoke materialized a long, slender blade with a clear hilt.

"Then take it," she said, offering the weapon to him. "Why do you look shocked?"

"You would give your life for a promise I may betray."

"Killing me won't solve your problem. I have a successor that would automatically take my place. Children are born every day, a new World will surface and while she will not be me, I will come again on the tenth cycle. That is unless you take this sword and use it to kill me. To us who are stronger than the rest, our own soul is our greatest weakness. For you to believe in my brother and not know this only goes to show how aware you are of his intentions."

Kouyou drew the sword against her neck and Keigo stepped forward when she raised her hand in his direction.

"He won't kill me," said Haruka, staring directly into the Hierophant's eyes. "Everyone is always so sure until they start to hesitate and wonder whether doing so is the right thing. They question it, 'she is the creator of the Arcana, and there is nothing she doesn't know.'"

The Hierophant didn't hesitate to slice a thin red line down her neck. "You misunderstand me. I will not hesitate.

Keigo watched in horror. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "She hasn't done anything. You're the one that betrayed her."

"Be silent, Hanged Man, I am liberating you from this demon," snapped the older man, his expression shrouded in a darkness to contrast the light in her face.

Haruka closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the look on the Hierophant changed faster than Keigo had a chance to react to the events that partook the second she exhaled. Kouyou was hurled across the living area and his back cushioned by an invisible wall that rippled orange upon contact forming a box that encased him.

She disappeared and reappeared in a cloud of smoke before Keigo. She reached out to touch his arm. "Stay with the other Evokers."

He opened his mouth to speak—to thank her—but he felt himself being thrown through a dark funnel. He landed on the ground hard and heard footsteps approaching.

"See? He came back on his own."

He recognized Touma's voice before feeling someone drag him to his feet and Ichigo's face appeared in his blurred periphery. "Ichigo?"

"You need to work on your landing," said Touma. "So, how'd you get away?"

Keigo shook his head. "I didn't. It was Wakatsuki-san, she—"

Ichigo frowned. "Why were you near Haruka?"

"What's with that reaction?" he questioned.

"Yeah, Kuro-chan, what's with that reaction?" asked Touma, smiling wryly.

"That's not the point," Keigo interjected, suddenly aware of the state he left Haruka and Kouyou back in that strangely unfamiliar home. "Kouyou's with Wakatsuki-san."

The Devil tilted his head curiously. "Oh, did Kouyou help you out?"

He felt panicked. "No, that's not it at all. Kouyou was the one that abducted me in the first place. He's kept me locked up in this weird, burning cage out in some wilderness!"

Ichigo turned to Touma, then back to Keigo, who he grabbed by the collar of his shirt. "And you just left her there?" he demanded. "Haruka's supposed to be resting—"

"Quit it!" shouted Keigo. "She's the one that threw me here. I know how to land on my feet when I dodge, but when someone else does it, it's harder! Besides, have you seen what she's capable of? I mean she looks completely harmless but she sent that old guy flying without even touching him!"

"She's probably handled it already, there's no need to get your panties in a bunch, you won't need to worry about any baddies getting the spring on your girl—she's scarier than she looks."

Keigo noted a change in Ichigo's expression and wondered if he missed so much during his absence that suddenly the Arcana Queen was dating Kurosaki Ichigo.

Touma shrugged. "Besides if she were in any serious danger, I would have sensed it. Well, we would have sensed it," he clarified, gesturing to himself and then at Keigo. "I would have been there in a heartbeat if I'm needed."

"Check on her," Ichigo ordered, then turned to Keigo. "Were you hurt?"

"Fine." The redhead sighed, dodging in a cloud of smoke.

Keigo shook his head in response to the question, and then decided on an answer. "Well, I can't complain."

"That's a first."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ichigo turned away just as Touma returned with a long black streak across his face and a terrible aura.

"What happened to you?"

Touma pointed at the black paint. "This is what happens when you doubt Nagisa." He dropped his hand and stepped into the kitchen for a wet washcloth to remove the damage. "Before you ask, she's got Kouyou in a cage."

Keigo saw Ichigo's eyebrows knitted and his mouth set in a deep frown.

"And you left her alone?" he demanded.

The Devil rejoined them, rubbing his chin clean. "Not even in his wildest dream will Kouyou be able to break out of that cage. You have other things to worry about like explaining to your father that your sisters are Arcana."

"Both of them?" asked Keigo, surprised.

"It's not what you think," Ichigo said quickly.

"It's exactly what you think except they're not dead yet," Touma corrected. "Oh and there's also the subject of your training. I'm supposed to address it. In fact the first and only thing Nagisa said to me was, '_Train him. Now.' _She means this instant, but neither Kazumasa nor Ageha are here and I don't know how to combine dimensions."

Keigo balked when Touma's eyes fell on him. "What?"

"Two Evokers are better than one," he answered with a smile, "so if you've got nowhere else to be, I suggest you tag along, we're gonna make Kuro-chan suffer a good number."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "How long until they show up?"

Two tall forms materialized from the large cloud of smoke in the center of his living room and from it emerged Ageha and Kazumasa, both looking a little worse for wear. The last time Keigo saw Kazumasa was during the apartment stint where everything started and that was nearly two weeks ago, but he remembered him being youthful with shaggy dark hair and an artsy aura whereas today his hair had turned stark white (or what Keigo begun referring to Arcana white) and his eyes were bright and golden.

"Good to see you safe, Hanged Man," greeted Ageha, the sickly-looking Hermit with the ability to see the future.

Keigo inclined his head politely and thanked him.

Kazumasa clapped everyone in the shoulder in greeting and smiled affably. "Excuse the strange appearance, uniting two dimensions requires more power than we anticipated."

"More so that we are going against the original formula that went into creating them," added Ageha, standing astride the male Lovers with a placid expression. His golden eyes fell on the Hanged Man. "We may require your strength as well, Hanged Man."

Keigo belatedly realized they all stood in a circle as if in the midst of an important meeting and felt a swell of importance at his inclusion. He didn't think he'd hold much rank in any life, but what he learned from being in captivity was that like the original Hanged Man he was held in high esteem by his Arcana peers and not for being an Evoker. In memory, he viewed the memories of the first Hanged Man and while simultaneously feeling as though he lived that particular life himself (unlike the three others in between where seeing the experiences previous Hanged Men went through was like watching a movie), he felt he was on equal footing with them. Certain details in his new Arcana life continued to take him by surprise.

"Me?" asked Keigo, pointing at his face. "How?"

"He hasn't had any training," Touma commented. "I can take his place."

"I pass."

"No."

Both Kazumasa and Ageha spoke in unison with the same expression on their faces.

"Why not?"

"You're not on the top of anyone's partnership list, not with your uncontrollable spiritual energy," Ageha responded. "Even Nagisa struggles controlling your Tarot and let's face it, in all these years your kidō abilities are subpar. Kurosaki here would perform a successful spell faster before you'd come close to understanding the inner mechanisms."

"Some people are born with it, others are failures," Kazumasa added with a shrug.

Touma angered. "I can use kidō!"

Even Keigo felt he was a hopeless case, but didn't dare give his two cents.

"Are we getting this done now or next week?" snapped Ichigo, finally fed up with their antics. "If you plan on wasting more time, I want to go see Haruka."

"She's busy with Death and Strength at the moment," Ageha revealed and for a moment, the air felt dry and his eyes shown a brighter shade. "It's best we start your training as soon as the dimensions are joined. She will be dropping by later."

"When did you get your ability from Kouyou?" asked Touma.

"A moment ago when I delivered Death and Strength to Nagisa's home and she slapped it in me," he answered, unconsciously reaching to rub his cheek as he reminisced. "She's promised cruel things for if I decide to rid myself of it a second time."

"She's been insufferably moody as of late," said Kazumasa, earning a nasty glare from Ichigo.

"How'd you be if you were about to die?" snapped the orange-haired teen.

"Let us keep the peace," Ageha interjected before the tension escalated. "Nagisa is in the midst of a difficult situation and we cannot prosecute her for having a bad day."

"Or three," Touma chimed in.

"Wait," Keigo cut in, drawing all eyes. "What are you saying? Didn't Wakatsuki become The World already? Why would she be dying?"

"One can never truly dodge death," said Ageha cryptically. "Nagisa doesn't believe her Arcana can win a war with herself at the helm and is certain that her successor is the key to victory. She is willing to sacrifice her life to see ours fulfilled, but plenty of hardship awaits us still and our next queen is young, far too young to understand the duty she's been charged with."

Ichigo's mood darkened, but he remained silent.

Keigo understood nothing apart from the anticipated war. He heard of it plenty of times, of Kouyou discussing the details of confrontation and the better methods to use against the Arcana. He overheard all of their plans. And in his silence, the sense of foreboding was near asphyxiating like a rope encircling his neck, forever tightening. He made observations during his captivity, listened to strategies involving Kosuda Tokujiro—the famed Arcana Killer—and Soul Society's plan to use him as their first wave of attack.

The only memory running through him was that of the second incarnation of his Tarot watching his imprisoned Arcana being mercilessly executed every one before Nagisa's eyes as means of torture. Kosuda's hatred for Nagisa was boundless and it didn't matter that she had only been a child during that cycle, far younger than she was today. Kosuda was the last person he wanted to meet, but he intuited that he wouldn't be able to avoid him even if he tried.

Sensing his confusion, Ageha spoke up, "My sister recently revealed that she chose a successor in the event that she met an untimely death. She has named one of Kurosaki-san's sisters, but will not tell us who."

He understood Ichigo's earlier grimace. "But they're not Arcana?"

"And we're not allowed to make them Arcana," added Touma.

"I wouldn't recommend you even think of making either one an Arcana," Ageha said, side eyeing the redhead.

"I never like when you talk to me that way. It always means you know something I don't want to know."

The Hermit cracked a sinister smile. "I wouldn't tell you even if you begged."

"Now I wanna know."

"You're beating a dead horse, brother," said Kazumasa, clapping Touma on the shoulder with a shake of his head.

"What is it with you people? Stay on one subject!" snapped Ichigo.

Everyone blinked at him.

"Did you not want to go to Nagisa?" asked Ageha coolly.

"Didn't you just say she was busy?" Ichigo argued, clearly annoyed by the sudden change in attitude.

"We need about half an hour to combine the dimensions," said Kazumasa. "It's a difficult process and I did mention before that it takes time, so if you want to give Nagisa a reason to shout at you."

"That's fine. She's got a sweet spot for Kuro-chan." Touma stepped closer to Ichigo and touched his shoulder. "Let's go."

The two vanished in a cloud of smoke and Keigo stared at the two remaining Arcana awkwardly before looking around Ichigo's house finally feeling safe.

* * *

"Don't move," came Haruka's voice.

Ichigo felt the wet paintbrush draw a diagonal line across his face and watched her step away from him to greet Touma in the same fashion. He touched the paint on his face and drew back his fingers to see them colored black.

"You should be training," she said looking at him and then, turned to Touma, "and you should be training him. Someone better be dead."

However, the familiar smug face of Aizen Sōsuke caught his eye and Nagata sat at the kitchen counter stuffing his face, waving in greeting when Ichigo's gaze fell on him.

"Why is he here?" Ichigo asked immediately, his attention rapt on the man partly responsible for the loss of his powers. Despite looking a bit gaunt and a little worse for wear, Aizen looked no different from the last time they met as Urahara's special kidō sealed him away. Knowledge remained in his eyes and power coursed through his veins and Ichigo realized that if Aizen wanted it, he would easily be dead before him.

"Don't be rude, he's standing right there, you ask him," she responded and stalked across the room to her seat before a half-painted canvas on an easel.

Aizen smiled mockingly. "Ah, Kurosaki Ichigo, it is so strange to see you so vulnerable."

Touma made a beeline past his brother to a square of counter covered in bottles of alcohol and served himself a whiskey on the rocks. Leaning back into that same countertop, he murmured something to his brother that escaped Ichigo's ears.

"Why are you here?" Ichigo bit out.

He knew the reason. Aizen was the real Strength Arcana and Haruka explained him to be something of a special case.

"Housen-san has just finished asking me to become one of her Evokers," he said, thriving on the emotion the revelation drew out of him.

Ichigo couldn't form words.

"You're definitely taking this better than I thought," commented Nagata. "Except, Aizen here refused."

"I have no intention of serving anyone," Aizen added, eyeing Haruka.

Ichigo sensed his confusion deepening. "Why are you still here?"

"Because Housen-san offered me something of interest, but her word is as dubious as my own."

"You attempted to sacrifice a hundred souls to create the King's Key to overthrow the Soul King and failed," Haruka began in a wondrously mocking tone. "I am offering you his throne on a silver platter so long as you meet a single condition."

"Why?" Ichigo snapped. He fought to the point of losing his powers to prevent Aizen from doing what he wanted and Haruka was willing to give him the throne in return for becoming one of her Evokers? "This is stupid! Why would you want that?"

"Because I believe Soul Society is in need of change. They, as a whole, have done horrific things and I am not just talking about what happened to us. They have brought this onto themselves," Haruka explained, turning her chair to face everyone. "I want to correct certain injustices beginning with our own and I don't care what it takes to accomplish that."

"I have friends in Soul Society," he argued.

"Then protect them," she said firmly.

"I have friends in the Arcana."

"Protect them as well."

How the hell would he do that?

"What about your brother? You plan to fight him?" Looking at all three Housen siblings with critical eyes, he imagined himself in the same position. He wouldn't even consider fighting his sister and they were planning to fight their brother. He heard the stories of his betrayal numerous time and about the many years he spent in the white hell called Oblivion. "Do you plan to kill him?"

"Killing him is the only thing we can do for him because he is our brother," Nagata interjected. "If he wins this war and becomes the next ruler of the Arcana, he will create an army of Arcana as originally intended. Imagine how many people will die. For every twenty dead potentials, you will have a new Arcana, and if he wants thirty hosts for each Tarot? Do the math. How many people are dying for his army? And do you think he will just create it for shits and giggles? No, he'll use it against Soul Society and everyone you hoped to protect will be dead and that throne will be emptied. Rather than let him run wild, we're taking responsibility as his family to get rid of him because we care enough about him that we don't want anyone else to do it for us. That deranged little fucker is still our brother."

Touma agreed with Nagata's words, but throughout the statement, Ichigo saw Haruka look downright unhappy. He wondered if, when she dropped the front, she might admit that he might have a point. But this was Haruka and that seemed unlikely. She wouldn't drop her guard or remove the mask of what she perceived to be a leader's role; she didn't want to be weak when death took her. The Arcana was everything to her and she didn't want to disappoint any of its members.

Ichigo shot one last uneasy glance at Aizen. This one he wouldn't accept.

* * *

Large patches of the greenery he remembered in Haruka's dimension looked molded in stone and iron. The great white forest that divided the flowery field from the wide ocean shed ashes with every waft of a sweltering breeze and somewhere in the center, a great blackened pit where a red armchair covered in vines and flowers once sat. Every five minutes giant flames burst from the center and split the lazy clouds above with a pillar of fire and in the distance, he heard the violent crash of the ocean waves.

Touma walked on ahead of Ichigo, hand held over his eyes to shade them from the surprisingly strong sunlight, a murmured something beneath his breath that sounded a lot like, "_Now where would three zanpakutō spirits be?_"

Ichigo tugged at the collar of his shirt. He didn't remember it being so hot inside Haruka's dimension and wandered off towards the seaside in search of ocean spray to make the heat wave bearable. He passed through the white forest, pausing every so often to note the differences and touch the reflective, cold surface of gray steel that coated the exterior of several tree trunks. The branches laced above his head and the tangled vines dripping from them were made of glittering crystal, and when it caught the sunlight it gave off a kaleidoscope of color that spread against the monochrome surroundings.

The closer he came to reaching the golden sand he begun to see a trail of gold speckled dust and blooms in the air before it vanishing, which could only mean Haruka's zanpakutō was in arm's reach. He followed the trace until he reached the short embankment separating the forest from the beach and it reminded him of yesterday's beach visit. He tried to help her see that it wasn't normal to want to die as badly as she wanted to, there was so much more life left for her to live and she was willing to sacrifice it for her Arcana. He didn't want her to die, but he couldn't change her mind.

He couldn't do anything but keep her company from here on out until the end. She swore that was all she needed.

"**Yo, King.**"

Ichigo chased the morbid thoughts away and found his Hollow grinning up at him from the foot of the embankment with Haruka's pixie-like zanpakutō on his shoulders.

Touma slinked out of the forest and trotted towards them with a sphere of fire chasing behind him. He lit up the moment he saw his sister's zanpakutō spirit, but when he tried reaching for her, she jumped up and vanished in gold dust.

"I wanted to play with her a bit," Touma sulked.

"Haruka's going to kick your ass if we don't start training," warned Ichigo.

With a nod, Touma turned over his mood and seemed professional until he opened his mouth. "Kuro-chan, you're going to give it your all to retrieve your zanpakutō," he told him, then regarded his Hollow, "and you're going to go after him like you want him dead. Start now!"

"**You don't need to ask me twice.**"

Ichigo narrowly avoided the hard swing of his Hollow's sword; the strength of it split the forest and sent a shockwave straight to the blackened pit that in turn sent a spiral of flames into the reflective sky. His body crashed into the sand that did little to cushion his fall and scrambled to his feet, eyes wild when Touma's wan face came into view.

"What the hell's your problem?" demanded Ichigo, feeling unfairly prepared.

"You gotta want it like a fat kid wants pie!" returned Touma. "You're very lacking in the conviction department and seem to only function at your peek in life or death situations. You need to be able to tap into that potential on a whim, Kuro-chan; I don't need to have to light a fire under your ass to get you going."

Cackling, his Hollow zipped towards him a second time and Ichigo cursed under his breath to realize that running towards his zanpakutō was his only alternative. He couldn't challenge his Hollow without a weapon in fear of losing a limb.

"We can attach whatever he chops off!" shouted Touma as if he just finished reading his mind. "Concentrate on getting to your sword and maybe then I'll consider helping you out."

"**Arrogant, are you?**"

"It's called modesty when you have the power to back it up," Touma challenged, smiling.

Ichigo ducked under a horizontal strike aimed at for his head and heard the steel sing against the sweltering wind. He rammed straight into his Hollow, sure his shoulder connected with his ribcage to make enough time to run up the embankment and through the forest. He managed to push the Hollow back into almost a stumble and did as planned. Once he entered the wide forest, he lost himself under its wide canopy but quickly sensed something strange in the air and by the time he recognized what was happening, he thought only of reaching his sword as it came into view still stabbed to the green ground.

He lurched forward, legs pumping past the forest when he heard his Hollow shout, "**Getsuga Tensho!**" and the tall, crescent slash decimated everything in its trajectory and chased him all the way to his sword.

He clasped the handled and imagined it loosened, but he was quickly met with the harsh reality. It didn't even budge. He looked up and saw the Getsuga there before him, seconds away from cutting straight through him when Touma appeared. He took the attack head on, but as Ichigo watched in amazement was that there seemed to be an invisible wall that shielded them and lessened the damage of the Getsuga Tensho to the point the energy burst and dispelled.

The ball of fire materialized before Touma and circled around him like a playful child.

Ichigo's Hollow appeared, sword rested over his shoulder and a new spark in his eye. "**The hell was that?**"

The Devil Arcana reached over to Ichigo's zanpakutō and with one hard yank released it from the ground, handing it to Ichigo. It was of foreign weight, but holding it in his hands made all the difference when he raised it up to see the light catch in the steel unable to stop himself from feeling at peace in the only way he felt with a sword to protect in his hands. It felt like power.

"That was power," Touma said, facing the Hollow. "For the next several hours I'm going to be teaching you both all about it, so you better get used to working together fast because I'm aiming to kill."

.

.

Touma worked him to the bone and at the end of the training sessions, a great percentage of Ichigo's body sustained terrible burns and his sword was shattered to pieces (though it rematerialized stabbed to the ground without a scratch on it). He learned little of the Devil Arcana throughout the grievous procession and that was that. His initial assumption that Touma used fire was off because it was the heat of the flames, which he used like a physical attack—there was no better way to explain it.

Haruka arrived as promised and healed his and his Hollow's burns before complimenting her brother on a job well done. "It seems you are better suited to his instruction," she had said. "En would have taken it easy on him."

Ichigo couldn't imagine Nagata being a better teacher than Touma until Haruka explained that because her youngest brother had been such a natural in all things combat related, he wasn't the sort to follow the proper steps into reaching a goal. He then wondered if Nagata would have tried to make him go through pulling his own sword from the ground instead of doing Touma's twisted version of an endurance exercise.

He watched her wander towards his Hollow with her zanpakutō spirit taken by the hand and interacted with him in a surprisingly natural way. Touma made his way towards him with the globe of fire spinning around his entire body and his eyes on the talk ensuing between Haruka and the Hollow.

"You worked hard today," Touma said, attempting at small talk.

Ichigo scowled. "You almost killed me."

"It was all for you. Tell me all that endurance training didn't help make you more aware of spiritual energy. I don't think you'll need Enishi's Sight to see ghosts for much longer."

He might have denied it, but the redhead had a point. He sensed Haruka's arrival the minute a door appeared to welcome her in, but the energy she emitted was very different—stronger and overbearing. He remembered that same energy when his Hollow was ripped out of him, it was nearly painful.

Haruka left her zanpakutō spirit and the pixie-like girl went sprinting out of sight. The sphere of fire that spent the entire time chasing Touma went rushing after her, crashing into the ground and taking the form of a snake that seared through the green grass. His Hollow stalked off on his own and the trio was left alone.

"Shima is in Japan," Haruka said upon reaching them.

"Don't tell Enishi, he's got it out for that guy."

"What'd he do to Nagata?" asked Ichigo, remembering the yellow-haired man from Haruka's memories.

"When does anyone do anything to Enishi?" Touma questioned, arching an eyebrow at him. "He just hates people because he hates them. Be happy you're not in Shima's place."

"He really hates Shima," Haruka agreed.

The Devil stepped away from the group. "You're a little late to the party though, Shima."

Haruka came to stand at his side before turning in her brother's direction as a slender man with cropped yellow hair and a stronger look in his eyes. He looked foreign from the man he saw in Haruka's memories; he no longer seemed to be the meek, jovial male who stared at Haruka with admiration. When he regarded her that day, his cold golden eyes softened and a small smile quirked his lips, but he wouldn't lie and say there wasn't sadness there.

"You've grown up fine," Shima said, looking to Touma.

"Third times a charm."

Shima approached Ichigo, the cold demeanor back. "We haven't met," he begun, "I'm Takeba Shima, the Fool Arcana."

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he returned stiffly.

"Shima, please finish my request and meet me once you'd done it," Haruka cut in. "Touma, take Ichigo home."

"What about you?" Ichigo asked.

"I'm going to see Kazumasa, but I'll be home later if you worry too much and need to make sure I haven't died."

"All right, let's go Kuro-chan!" Touma grabbed Ichigo and dodged them out of Haruka's dimension without preamble.

The two landed in his bedroom, which he expected to be empty, except it wasn't. Nagata, Tatsuki, and Orihime were going through his closet when he came into view and the three dropped whatever they were holding on the floor. Ageha and Kazumasa were visibly crowding Keigo and making him incredibly uncomfortable, but what took him completely by surprise was Uryu's presence and his placid reaction to their appearing from a cloud of smoke as though he had seen it half a dozen times.

"What're you doing here Ishida?" he questioned.

Ishida pushed his glasses up. "Inoue-san brought me," he said swiftly. "And when did you plan to explain these Arcana to me?"

"It was my fault, I almost killed him outside your house," Kazumasa admitted, "and Arisawa-san happened to be faster than his own reflexes and—"

His bespectacled classmate cleared his throat, fist held over his mouth. "Arisawa-san was kind enough to help me before these strangers bulldozed me."

Ichigo decided not to ask. "You would have found out eventually, it's not like we're a secret society," he told him, downstairs he heard the front door open and his father's booming voice call out to his sisters. "Nobody leave this room. Tatsuki keep my sisters busy, I need to talk to my dad."

Tatsuki stepped out of his room after all the Arcana inside complained collectively and intercepted Yuzu on her way towards the stairs. Ichigo asked her and Karin, who poked her head out the door, to stay upstairs with the others.

Yuzu lit up. "Is Touma-san here?"

Karin frowned. "Not that creep."

Touma exited, frowning at the dark haired girl. "I'm not a creep."

"You are a creep," Nagata seconded from the doorway.

"Look who's talking," grumbled Tatsuki side eyeing Death.

Karin laughed, but Yuzu was quick to chastise her about treating their guests nicely.

"Except nobody invited them," Ichigo commented as he made his way down the staircase.

"See, you heard Ichi-nii, we don't have to be nice to them."

"Ahh, so these are the Magician and Sun," came Ageha's wondrous tone. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Ageha, the Hermit Arcana and I see great things for the two of you."

The others were quick to chime in and he rolled his eyes, hoping his sisters didn't ask too many questions about why a group of strangers was calling them the Magician and Sun. He met his father as he was making his way to the staircase and saw him brighten.

"Ichigo! Miss me?"

"Not really."

Isshin looked crushed, but the emotion was fleeting. "How are my little girls?"

Ichigo braced himself. He didn't want to be the one to tell him that his little girls were Arcana, but it needed to be done. He swore he would do it as soon as Isshin returned from his lengthy stay in Soul Society and it was now or never.

"There's something you need to know about Karin and Yuzu," he started, feeling grim. He paused as he stared his father in the face and watched it twist in confusion. He didn't have the right words. He could only imagine what his dad's reaction would be and it made him want to stop himself, but he couldn't. He couldn't keep this a secret forever. "Dad…Haruka's told me—"

Isshin misinterpreted it and clapped him on the shoulder. "Wakatsuki's told me," he said, eyebrows drawn in empathy and he gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "It's difficult to lose a friend—"

"That's not it," Ichigo said hurriedly. "Karin and Yuzu…they're…they're Arcana." The words spilled from his mouth with great difficulty. His chest clenched. Speaking the truth was like finally seeing it for himself and the rest came rushing out. "Karin and Yuzu are Arcana and if they die they complete the cycle, but that's not it. Once Haruka dies, one of them is supposed to take her place."

"What?"

"Haruka is Nagisa," he confessed, "and Nagisa is dying. She picked one of them to be her successor."

And it was like the world had come crashing down around his father.

Isshin recovered from the shock fairly quick. "Do they know?"

"No," he admitted. "Haruka doesn't want them to know and she doesn't want them to awaken. She told me they wouldn't awaken."

"Soul Society released a very dangerous prisoner," Isshin started. "They call him the Arcana Killer because he is good at it. This man, Kosuda Tokujiro was a part of the original Arcana experiment with the Original hundred and he was supposed to be a part of Judgment's Army under Yamato, Nagisa's twin. Twenty-two people became Arcana and it became universal knowledge that there were no other survivors, except there were people that lived through the worst of it but didn't make it through the final transition.

Among the few that survived only two remain today, Kosuda Tokujiro, of the Judgment's Arcana, and Wakatsuki Hiko, of the Tower Arcana. Because they were willing volunteers, they did not turn against Soul Society during the first Arcana War and proved to be among the only beings capable of defeating fully awakened Arcana."

"Wakatsuki is an Arcana…" Ichigo repeated doubtfully.

Isshin nodded. "He is also the only person apart from Nagisa with the knowledge to create an Arcana and has used his talent by creating other half-Arcana's like himself that are able to fight against them, but he and his army is the least of their worry. Kosuda Tokujiro is the only man they fear because he is merciless. He is the reason most of the Arcana were hurled into Oblivion after the first cycle and why it's been five complete cycles before the originals finally reawakened.

And if Nagisa says someone is an Arcana, Kosuda is going to target them and he won't care if they're young or old. He doesn't care if they are family or friends or comrades. He wants all Arcana dead and it's been enough trouble to keep him from killing the Arcana in Soul Society with the promise that he will be allowed to dispose of every Arcana in the Human World."

"Why the hell would they release a nutcase like that?" Ichigo asked snappishly.

"Once the Arcana are at the peak of their powers, this war will turn into a bloodbath. Kosuda is supposed to do what he does best before all of them are awakened…and kill off the remaining originals. They are at the center of their universe, without them, the remaining members lose all their fighting power."

_Nagata, Touma, Ageha, Kouyou, Haruka…Haruka…Haruka…_

He would be coming for Haruka first and inevitably, the rest would follow. No matter how many promises Haruka and her brothers made towards keeping his sisters from become involved, it was impossible with someone like Kosuda Tokujiro around. That was what his father was trying to say by telling him about that man.

Nobody was safe.

"Karin and Yuzu need to know," Ichigo decided. "Wouldn't it be worse to—?"

Isshin was looking past him with a hardened face and Ichigo turned. Ageha stood at the center of the staircase, his eyes glowed a brighter shade of gold.

"I overheard, I apologize," said Ageha, striding down the final steps to stand near them. "I'm part of the neutral party, you may have heard of me."

"Sumizome Ageha," spoke Isshin, tensed. "You the one that favors Nagisa."

"Alas, I am biased," he admitted. "Nagisa is my longest friend."

"Why are you here?"

Ageha waved a hand to silence Ichigo who was about to open his mouth and made eye contact with Isshin. "I want to suggest keeping the Arcana under wraps for the two if you want to keep them alive. They will discover this all on their own, but do not think they are so young and naïve not to notice something is going on, particularly Yuzu. She's more human than the other girl is and that means she can sense black energy as well as any Arcana. Of course, Karin is unusually suspicious about your new group of friends."

_Yuzu must be terrified._

"What are you going to do, Ichigo?" asked Isshin suddenly.

The idea had always been choosing a side, Soul Society or the Arcana. His sisters were on the Arcana side without knowing it, Haruka was their queen, and on the other side was Rukia, Renji, Byakuya, and the others. There were too many people he wanted to protect and he sought an answer to his affliction for as long as he played with the idea of sides.

He always thought he would choose Soul Society. Nagata and Touma were forces of nature. If the two ascended upon Soul Society, there was no way in hell everyone would make it out alive. And if Haruka entered the fray with her ability to be whichever Tarot she desired, it would surely be obliterated. But when he learned Karin and Yuzu were Arcana he wanted to be on their side to protect them. Haruka's promise that her army would not allow them to participate returned him back to his confusion. He was at a loss.

Kosuda changed everything.

The weight of the world fell on his shoulders and he steadied his resolve. "I'll get my powers back," he said resolutely, "and I'll stop this Arcana war."

* * *

**beta**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: First I want to thank my beta because I gave her four chapters to edit and she's done a splendid job despite being busy! So, she's wonderful, worship her with me, worship her. She has also agreed to beta part 2, so seriously, she's awesome.

Secondly, I am working on an Arcana list to make your life easier, but it's not done yet. Until it is, please be patient with me. :)

Third, after this only 3 chapters remain in part 1 of the Thirteen.

Fourth, I want to thank all these wonderful people: **reality deviant**, **animelover56348**, **Aeryan**, **Aries01xD**, **ruler of dragons**, and **XxBishxX** for reviewing the previous chapter. And thank you for the favorites and the alerts I've received since my absence.

Lastly, thank you for reading! :)

You may ask questions if you have them. You will find a preview to the next chapter at my LJ, link in my profile.


	39. D-07

**Chapter Thirty Eight**, "D-07"

Wakatsuki Arashi entered the room in a confident stride flanked by Yuka and Faye to the aggrieved reaction of Kosuda Tokujiro, the infamous Arcana Killer.

"You'd work for this trash?" Kosuda barked, slamming his fist on the long table's surface. The question was directed to Wakatsuki Hiko standing at the foot of it in the otherwise empty meeting room. "The most traitorous bastard and you'd invite him to sit in on strategic meetings?"

"Oh? That's cute," Arashi commented, pulling back a chair to sit in, "you think sitting in a chair, getting drunk, and spewing your Arcana bigotry is a strategic meeting. I didn't remember you being this adorable."

At his side, Yuka snorted and Faye rolled her eyes.

Kosuda grabbed the hilt of his zanpakutō, but Hiko's hand slapped over his and shot him a warning look. "I will cut you in half if you intervene a second time."

"It should be enough that Yamato helped during the First Cycle to convince you that he is on our side," said Hiko definitely.

"Don't trust a bastard that had no qualms betraying his own family."

"You shouldn't persecute him if you don't know the reason."

"Ambition," spat Kosuda. "Ambition is your only fuel and you were spiteful because you were not chosen to lead the Arcana. You would have bowed to Enishi, but not to Nagisa."

Arashi smirked. He enjoyed toying with Kosuda, knowing the man could do nothing against him because they belonged to the same Tarot and like abilities tended to cancel each other out, which made the scruffy older male extra vicious. He turned to Yuka with humor in his expression. "Remind me to write Kosuda-san a list detailing the reasons for betraying my own flesh and blood."

Yuka grinned mockingly. "Who would have pegged the famous Executioner as a preacher?"

"Speak again and I will have no issue killing you, Arcana trash," Kosuda warned.

"Are you no different?" challenged Faye, brushing a golden curl off her slender shoulder. "You were born of the same method, you were only too weak to welcome the complete transformation."

"Enough!" Hiko snapped and the rising tension halted. He observed Arashi. "Where is the Hierophant?"

"An unfortunate thing," Arashi said leisurely, "Nagisa captured him and has no intention of returning him."

Hiko frowned, but moved the meeting along quickly.

The conversation consisted of the Arcana within Soul Society and, for the most part, their will to use their newly awakened power against their own kind if and when an invasion occurs. Of course, they wanted to take the preemptive strike to ensure a fast victory with lesser casualties which meant using the Arcana in the Gotei 13 as the primary fighting force with various members of Hiko's specially training shinigami as back-up. But there was trouble, particularly with Hisagi Shuuhei, Ninth Division's lieutenant and Tower Arcana, because he was one of Nagisa's Evokers and though he wanted to help protect Soul Society by taking his rightful place among the others, he couldn't. Going against the enemy army meant committing the capital crime of threatening his charge's life and bypassing that rule was like impossible.

"You mentioned you had a plan," said Hiko, looking to Kosuda.

"The Arcana cycle was completed two days ago with the awakening of the Sun Arcana, everyone is at their peak," Kosuda begun unable to mask the sinister gleam in his dark eyes. "I want them weakened. The Magician alone is the key to their hidden powers, without her, they lose about seventy percent of their abilities and are left with only exalted physical capabilities."

"Oh, they will expect that," Arashi commented, feigning a yawn. "It's a boring strategy. Come on, Tokujiro, you can do better than that."

Kosuda laughed darkly. "Let me finish, brat. When their strength is threatened, the strongest will assemble to protect it. I will need several of your shinigami to defeat one of the three—Death, Devil, or Chariot, whichever one dares to intervene. Take out the strongest, you weaken the herd. Nagisa won't dare show her face to me." He paused as if to savor the thought running through his head before voicing it. "She will be the last one. I will relish her death."

Arashi decided not to burst his bubble. The Chariot was in the middle of adjusting to her new life as an Arcana, so she wasn't up to speed with Death and Devil in terms of strength. It'd be too unlikely a scenario to hear of her interfering between Kosuda and his prey, not if it spelled her death. She was smarter than that…or was she?

"You say that as if you expect me to let you kill her," said Arashi humorously, earning a quizzical look from the two men. "The only reason I joined this crusade was so that I'd be allowed to take Nagisa's life. She damned me to oblivion for a millennium and you expect me to let you waltz in and do the favor for me?"

"I'll send you right back to oblivion if you interfere," Kosuda growled.

"You're part Arcana as well, so I wouldn't be making threats at the person that governs oblivion," he remarked. "I can open a door and seal you in there for the rest of your stupid life without so much as laying a finger on you—"

"Silence!" snapped Hiko, fed up. "Death declared war on Soul Society almost a week ago and it is safe to assume that Nagisa's Arcana are already done masterminding their assault for six days from today. They are gathering power and only the strongest assembled on her side, how do you two expect to defeat Death if you can't stop arguing amongst yourselves?"

"Sad to admit, but I agree," said Faye. "Death has a tendency of coming back stronger every time he is defeated and we all have at one point or another underestimated him."

"You would," came Yuka's snide remark.

Arashi rolled his eyes, unable to deny it and sighed. "Fine. We can settle this later," he said. "For now, we should focus on attacking Nagisa's side while they're weak. For whatever reason the original Arcana incarnations are pretty slow on the uptake."

Kosuda shot him a disgruntled look not having understood the phrase.

"Nagisa might have the strongest fighters, but they're not as strong as they should be," he explained. "I think the overabundant spiritual energy in Karakura Town stifled their transition process, so while previous incarnations awoke with their memories and powers intact, a large group of Arcana that died or made the switch in Karakura Town suffered the consequence. Black energy is too pure to gather in great quantities in an area full of the spiritually inclined, it dissipates and humans undergoing the transitional phase cannot absorb it fast enough. Not to mention some of the new additions to the Arcana family were spiritually inclined to start and we all know that makes for terrible results, especially if they aren't strong enough to be on a shinigami level."

There were many contributing factors to the power delay on the new Arcana and he wished to continue proving his theories with the use of the Hanged Man's host, but Kouyou decided to act on his own and barter Nagisa with her Evoker's life.

"What difference is there between a spiritually inclined human and a shinigami?" barked Kosuda.

"A spiritually inclined human would normally die under the exposure of black energy because they are neither strong enough to withstand it or their body automatically rejects it," answered Hiko. "It's easier to create Arcana from a shinigami that is used to dealing with some type of spiritual energy or a human without it and the right capacity."

"Ordinary humans are more aware of black energy, so it's been easier for the Arcana to be born into the world as humans," Arashi finished. "But that's not the point. The point is that Nagisa's army is lacking in the force department and a fatal blow to their trump card will benefit Soul Society. So I am on board with your plan because they are guarding the Magician twenty-four seven with Touma no less—it's our move now."

"That redheaded piece of shit 's still alive?"

"And itching for battle, it seems," Arashi answered with a smile. "But isn't it death you should be worried about?"

Kosuda grinned. "He's the one I'll be waiting for, so if anyone should be worried it should be him and that pretty sister of yours."

Hiko stood with his arms folded over his chest, conflicted. He said nothing, yet it was obvious he dreaded going up against Nagisa and it had everything to do with the same reason he wanted Arashi to stay in the sidelines. They were his children and it didn't matter if they were an ancient evil dooming Soul Society to hell, he wouldn't fight them. Arashi thought that sort of personal dilemma would get him killed, but he didn't care enough to pay his actions any heed. He was interested in something else.

_How many of yours are you willing to sacrifice? What will your next move be, Nagisa?_

* * *

Despite Touma's presence, Haruka kissed him and Ichigo could do nothing but stand in the middle of the living area turning a hundred shades of red before moving on to chastise her even though he was certain the redhead saw nothing as he did a beeline to the refrigerator upon arriving to her home. Haruka returned to the kitchen table to continue grumbling over a bowl of watery oatmeal that she forced him to taste.

"This doesn't taste like anything," Ichigo complained. "What the hell did you do wrong?"

"I don't know, I followed the instructions to the dot, it's supposed to taste like apples and cinnamon," she said, openly glaring at her pasty breakfast. "I tried adding extra cinnamon and real apple squares, but it didn't make a difference."

She added chunks of apple, not squares and might have poured half the bottle of cinnamon now that he had a better look at its contents. He felt she might have tried adding milk as well.

Touma poured two glasses of orange juice and set them in front of them before removing her bowl of oatmeal. "I told you to stay out of the kitchen," he said and tossed her tasteless breakfast, bowl and all, into the trash can. "I'm making banana pancakes because you can't live off stale oatmeal for the rest of your life."

"I can try."

"You need to quit spoiling her," said Ichigo.

"Not until your sister stops spoiling you," she shot back. "You don't cook for yourself."

"I can follow the instructions in the back of an oatmeal box just fine if I wanted to," he retorted.

"I can too, it's not hard," she tried.

"Oh that pasty shit you called breakfast didn't make it past the first step before you started adding your own ingredients," Touma commented, earning a vicious glare from his sister. He laughed and continued rummaging through the kitchen for ingredients. "You can go off and play with your boyfriend. I'll call you when everything's ready."

Haruka left her seat reluctantly and led Ichigo to her room. The only word to describe the state of it was pigsty. Haruka lived in a human pigsty where every clothes she owned was either on the floor or peeking out of drawers. He tripped over one of the shoes lying around and tried maneuvering his way to the couch at the end of her unmade bed where she plopped down to continue playing video games on the wide screen television aligned to the wall. There were stacks of movies on the ground and video game cases lying around. He saw a laptop sitting on top of her tangled duvet and found her PSP when he accidentally sat on it.

The entrance to the bathroom sat wide open and on the counter he saw bottles of paint and a metal can full of clean paintbrushes. He spotted her easel in the far corner and several blank canvases leaning against the wall.

The walls of her room were tacked with all the charcoal drawings she made while in the hospital and he found it odd that he was started to make sense of what used to look like scribbles the longer he stared at the dark shapes as they took human form. Underneath their shadowy presences sat a long, winding road that turned at every wall corner until the large picture seemed to break apart. Haruka wasn't done drawing the rest of it and she didn't seem to be in a hurry anymore.

He wondered if something changed.

"Your bananas went bad and you don't have flour!" Touma shouted. "I'm going to get some from the store! Don't do anything I wouldn't while I'm gone!"

"What wouldn't he do?" asked Ichigo.

"Nothing. He's very drawn to temptations, no matter what they are, so you can say he has given us the freedom to do whatever we want," she told him. "Of course, no one asked him and I do whatever I want on an everyday basis, so you want to play a multiplayer game or something?"

"No, that's fine," he said, seeing as she looking to be enjoying herself. "Keep killing zombies."

"Are you sure? I have some good multiplayer games," she pressed.

Ichigo shook his head. The fact that they were alone gave him a good excuse to ask all the questions he had last night. "Haruka, I want to know about Shima," he blurted, and watched her slowly turn her face to him seemingly shocked by the demand. "Touma said he's supposed to be the only Arcana that never leaves your side, but he's never been around you until recently. Shouldn't he be protecting you?"

"He is protecting me and he hasn't left my side, not once," she answered. "He's particularly good at going unnoticed, but other than that there's nothing to say about Shima. He's someone I knew from the past."

_Someone that cared for her on a deeper level_, he thought disagreeably. Shima bothered him on a general level and it wasn't just the way he looked at Haruka (even though that was a concrete reason) or the way he treated him like an insignificant being, rather he felt distrustful around the man. The fact that he spent the rest of the day yesterday with Haruka alone exacerbated his irritation towards him and thinking about it had made it impossible to sleep last night.

"Why are you glaring at me?" she asked blankly.

"I'm not glaring at you."

"You're definitely glaring at me." Haruka paused her game and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. "I can go all day. I have nothing better to do."

"What about your game?"

"I'm on my fourth play through; it's not going to kill me to have a staring contest with you."

"I'm not trying to have a staring contest; I just want to know about that Shima guy," he snapped. "Do you trust him?"

Haruka furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"I don't trust him," he divulged.

"He's never failed me, I trust him completely," she replied strongly. "Don't make an issue out of this. Everyone's intuition fails at one point, so think of yours failing today. Shima wouldn't side with Yamato because he hates him almost as much as Enishi does and the feeling is mutual. He hasn't betrayed me and I doubt he'll start now."

He scowled. "Forget I asked."

They fell silent and things quickly turned awkward. Attempting to strike a conversation with her made him extremely uncomfortable so he welcomed Touma's return as it gave him a reason to leave the room, though it didn't go unnoticed.

Haruka dragged her feet all the way to the breakfast table once Touma finished a mountain of banana pancake and begun making a platter of scrambled eggs, sunny side for her, and started on the bacon.

"Do you have any news on the battle front?" Touma asked after completing his final task and setting a plate of extra crispy bacon between their plates.

"I convinced Aizen to cast an illusion so that Soul Society and its allies believe the Arcana to be fully awakened," she divulged.

"You would trust him with something that important?" asked Ichigo.

"I think he likes me. He wouldn't betray me."

Ichigo was starting to feel she was way too trusting of people, making it that much easier for them to betray her. He wished she were a little more suspicious that would ease at least seventy percent of his worries involving her.

"That's not a good reason to trust someone, especially one with his track record."

"Well, you can't know to trust a person unless you give them a chance," Touma chirped.

"See, I did raise him right," she said proudly.

He wouldn't win in this household and sighed. "What good is it going to do if they think every Arcana is awakened?"

"For one, they'll think we're at our peak and it'll be easier to keep your sisters from any accidental awakenings," she explained. "We can hide them away somewhere until the war is over and hope for the best."

"Oh, Shima, do you want breakfast?" asked Touma.

Ichigo whirled around and sure enough, Shima was standing at the edge of the kitchen counter holding a cup of coffee.

"I just ate a donut with coffee," he answered, raising his cup to show the redhead. "Thank you for offering."

Shima sauntered to stand to Haruka's left. "Good morning, Haruka," he greeted. She grumbled a response and he then looked at Ichigo. "Good morning, Kurosaki-san."

"Mornin'."

"I'm going to tidy up your room now," Shima announced. "Stay here until I finish."

"Don't mess anything up," she told him as he departed.

Ichigo sat uncomfortably. "You're really going to let him clean your room."

"He wanted to do it," she answered with a shrug.

Touma neared the table, drying his hands with a washcloth. "I'm going to drop by to see Enishi."

"Okay," Haruka said absently. "Tell him to stop shadow stalking Yamato."

Arashi's casual mention reminded Ichigo of Kouyou, who had last been seen trapped in a kidō cage. "Hey, what happened to Watanabe?"

"I put him in a closet after ordering him to shut up." Haruka pointed at the coat closet near the door. "He spent a long time lecturing me and even I'm not _that _patient, so he's going to stay in time out until he wants to have a nice conversation with me."

Touma crossed over to the closet and opened the door. Sure enough, Watanabe Kouyou stood inside with his arms folded over his chest and a furious expression on his face that diminished his usually affable persona. The Devil laughed and slammed the door shut.

"Make sure to feed him," he suggested, waving farewell before dodging.

"Haruka," he begun unable to mask the discomfort in his tone, "you can't treat people like this."

"Like what?" she asked innocently, nibbling on a piece of bacon.

"Like they're not people," he responded. He couldn't think of another way to say it. There was a difference between being spoiled and allowing everyone to wait on her and stuffing people into closets while simultaneously abusing her power to order them to do whatever she wanted. He didn't want to come down on her hard because of her looming death, but he didn't want to baby her like the rest of the world that let her do as she wished and saw no wrong in her actions.

Ichigo believed she wasn't acting normal. She wasn't unnecessarily mean or this moody before. She offered concrete reasons to all her actions, to the point that he found himself confused about which side to take, but nowadays, like Kazumasa mentioned yesterday on several occasions, she was being insufferable. She acted like a predator that toyed with its prey before moving in for the kill and he hoped to stop her before she took that plunge.

"I treat you just fine."

"I'm not talking about me."

"You should only be worried about you."

"What's that supposed to even mean?"

Haruka didn't answer for a long time, in fact, she didn't move. She held her fork in her hand and stared listlessly at her plate as droplets of syrup marred the table's glass surface.

"Haruka?"

Ichigo gently dropped his hand on her shoulder and she snapped out of her trance with an exaggerated jolt, nearly falling out of her chair. He steadied her and took her by the elbows when her eyes roamed her surroundings wildly as though she believed herself to be somewhere other than her home. He feared her sudden panic might result in a seizure and tried to remain calm, to help divert her attention elsewhere…

Except, he couldn't. She wasn't focusing and prattled on beneath her breath.

"Haruka!"

Shima emerged from the hallway in a rush and quickly assessed the situation. His eyes glowed golden in the second he touched her neck with his fingers and her eyes fluttered shut, her body sagging in Ichigo's hands.

"What did you do?" Ichigo demanded.

"One of my Arcana brothers possesses the ability to induce sleep, I merely used it on her," Shima answered. "The only plausible reason for her behavior is Kosuda Tokujiro being near and it is best her light dims to the point he is unable to seek her out and that is only possible in sleep."

Kosuda Tokujiro. The Arcana Killer. The monster. Ichigo never thought he would hear of his presence since learning of him.

"Is she scared of him…?" he asked slowly, staring down at her face.

"Our Queen is strong and is revered to fear nothing, but she is weakness because she fears every day and every hour of the arrival of that man because he understands the cycle and our Queen better than anyone and he does not need to lay a hand on her to hurt her. His mere presence is painful, but his actions will kill her faster than any mortal illness and he likes to watch her die from sorrow."

Ichigo rose, pulling the unconscious girl into his arms. He felt disturbingly uncomfortable.

"You will undoubtedly confront him," Shima continued. "Nagisa is your woman, is she not? Protect her."

He opened his mouth to respond to that, but the blond man dodged in a swirl of black smoke. It's not like he wasn't going to protect her because it had always been his intention no matter how many times she didn't need it. After everything Shima disclosed about Kosuda, he thought it of absolute importance that he be taken out first and wondered where her brothers were when he put that fear in her.

Ichigo put Haruka in bed and stared at her face. With her eyebrows drawn together, she looked worried. Sleeping didn't help as much as Shima made it seem and he considered waking her. He wished she at least looked serene.

* * *

Keigo accompanied Ichigo to his second training session and started as yesterday's had with his running around the dimension in an attempt to dislodge his sword from the ground before his Hollow murdered him. He decided not to question Touma's methods of training so long as Nagata never volunteered to take over like he'd promised last night. He'd rather deal with Touma than Nagata and Tatsuki combined who were seen together more often than not and Keigo was starting to get suspicious.

"I thought they hated each other," he complained.

Ichigo took a gulp of ice-cold water and spilled the rest of it over a large cut on his forearm to clean the dried blood off the wound. "What are you on about?"

"The history teacher and Arisawa," said Keigo exasperatedly.

Touma scoured through a pack of overflowing with food until he pulled out a black container and exclaimed in joy. "Hah! Here they are!" He turned in the direction of the Hollow attempting to swat the fireball off its trajectory while the pixie zanpakutō attempted to stop him by clinging to his leg. "I brought snacks for you as well, so stop picking on that poor Hollow!"

He never imagined his Hollow in an unsuspicious setting surrounded by playful zanpakutō spirits that wanted nothing more than to bully him to the brink of insanity.

"He's not a history teacher," Ichigo said absently, "and you're probably reading too much into it."

The redhead reached the trio and passed out orbs to each one before returning to his packed lunches.

"Why would they be hanging around so much if they're not friendly?" continued Keigo, looking at Touma for answers.

"Enishi is training Arisawa," Touma confessed. "Nagisa asked the two to set aside their differences and help one another. She's a fast learner, so she would have been a better option for me instead of you losers. Enishi would have whooped your asses into shape, he's a firm believer in establishing foundations."

"Because you're doing such a spectacular job," Ichigo shot back.

"It's not fair, you're a terrible teacher!" Keigo complained.

"And yet you can dodge and you managed to make that gigantic kitchen knife of yours budge in under twenty-four hours?" Touma pointed out. "Now you tell me who's the waste of space here?"

"You are," Ichigo affirmed.

"You?" said Keigo hesitantly.

Touma stomped his foot in fury and it sank through the earth. "That's it, you get off your lazy ass and start trying to summon your weapon or I'll make you run around the dimension until Ichigo can make his zanpakutō budge a second time"—he rounded on Ichigo—"and you, you better be faster than you were yesterday!"

Thrusting his open palm towards him, Ichigo was hurled across the wide meadow by a burning invisible force. He jumped to his feet with every muscle and bone in his body screaming in pain and shook the grass out of his hair in time to evade another of Touma's oncoming attacks. He felt the heat whip across his face, drawing violent red lines where it nicked him.

Keigo complained about not knowing how to summon a weapon and Touma barked at him to figure it out like the good teacher he was. It was like asking someone to solve a difficult math problem and not teaching him the formula beforehand.

His training methods were a convoluted guessing game and Ichigo never looked forward to any of his sessions, but he had Haruka and his sisters to think about and that alone made them bearable.

However, Touma needed to cut back on his tyranny.

It wasn't long before Keigo gave up and resorted to begging Touma for mercy while the redhead resorted to kick him around to prove a point. The one assuring Keigo he wouldn't die from an ordinary beating even though he screamed bloody murder throughout and Touma barely drew blood when he broke his nose to shut him up.

Ichigo was in the middle of nursing burn wounds and one nasty gash on his shoulder from a short bout with his Hollow, who seemed happy for time away from the childish zanpakutō tricksters stalking him around the combined dimensions. Everything hurt, the cuts, the burns, the bruises—everything without exception and he was growing irritated by how difficult regaining his powers was proving. There should be an easier way, something faster, because at the pace they were going he doubted he would be ready by the time Haruka's side moved against Soul Society.

"Isn't there a faster way to get my powers back?" Ichigo asked, drawing Touma out of concentration.

"There's always a faster way," answered Touma, "but you know what they say, beggars can't be choosers."

"We're running out of time and Kosuda is out there looking for Haruka, do you really think we should be wasting our time like this?"

It was an infuriating thought. Six days remained before Nagata made true on his declaration of war and the last he heard, Soul Society was in the middle of preparing their own assault. Everyone seemed to be doing their own thing, always running errands for Haruka or aiding new Arcana through their adjustment period (and they were learning fast) and Ichigo remained in the same position he had been when this first started.

Six days wouldn't be enough, but they were the only people he could rely on to help him. He wanted to contribute somehow.

Touma was ready to rebuke when his whole face darkened.

Nearby, Keigo gathered himself from the ground and stared into the sky as if he experience a revelation, but his eyes dropped to him and they were wide. "Ichigo…"

Slowly, the two Arcana approached him and his stomach dropped, already expecting the worst.

"Don't freak out, but Karin just died," Touma said calmly.

"What do you mean _don't freak out_?" Ichigo snapped, unable to control the rise of emotions.

She was an Arcana, she would come back to life after a fixed amount of time, but he didn't think of that. He grew angry fast because she was an Arcana and awakened she would become involved.

"She's already started transition—"

"Oh, is that what the timer is for?" asked Keigo, earning a glare. He pointed at his head. "There's a timer in my head rolling back, I didn't know that…" He drifted off awkwardly, choosing to wander away.

"We need to take her before he realizes she's just awakening."

"Who?" Ichigo commanded.

"Kosuda, our executioner." Touma opened an exit. "We have to go, the Chariot is near, but she can't hold him long enough in her current state."

Ichigo hastily crossed the door's threshold. He only saw white. His sister was in danger and he didn't see anything beyond that. He needed to protect her from Kosuda.

* * *

In deep slumber, her body violently convulsed and she stepped dangerously close to the edge of oblivion, compelled by a relief to the excruciating ache tearing through her chest. Images flashed through her mind and she saw the dark haired girl—so young and underserving—cornered in the darkness by that beast of a man.

She had sensed a sliver of his energy earlier, but dismissed it as another ghost attempting to make contact and continued down the barely lit sidewalk. Kosuda misunderstood her naivety as arrogance and it fueled a dark emotion deep inside his blackened soul. He pursued her in shadows, but fed up by his smothering presence, the young Magician confronted him.

The pain escalated then. Haruka was paralyzed by it, weighted by the stone called fear, and horrified as she experienced the moment alongside the Magician Arcana. She experienced the panic that swelled in Kurosaki Karin's chest upon realizing the man was neither ghost nor shinigami, felt the drop of her stomach upon recognizing something sinister in him and when she turned to run, he was already upon her, his shadow swallowing her whole. He called out to her by her true name and she attempted to clear the misunderstanding, speaking only the truth about her situation, but every panicked word laced in feigned strength sounded like a lie to him. Her heart hammered in her chest in desperation and for a second, she wished her brother could save her no matter how impossible it was.

That alone broke Haruka's heart and she tried to see no more, but the images persisted.

As Kosuda's eyes turned a molten gold, he drove his weapon through her. He relished the experience because whatever pain the dying Arcana bore would reach his intended target.

Haruka relieved those horrifying images on repeat until they finally dragged her out of sleep. She scrambled out of bed and saw Shima's outline. She called out to him, but he touched her skin once more and the dark trance enveloped her a second time.

_Somebody make it stop…_

"It is not yet time for you to wake."

* * *

Ichigo followed Touma's lead through familiar streets. He grew angrier the longer it took to pinpoint Kosuda's location and at the thought of Karin, who should have never been involved in the Arcana War. Haruka insisted it wouldn't happen, she assured him she did everything in her power to prevent it from occurring, but it didn't happen that way. Karin died and she had sixty whole minutes to bid farewell to her humanity and embrace the Arcana way, but if he couldn't protect her from dying, Ichigo swore he would protect her from involving herself with this.

He crossed an empty intersection and slipped through the invisible barrier Keigo pointed out from the rear. Inside the enclosure, the ambiance was heady with black energy and it sparked in the air like an electric current. The feeling was eerily similar to being in Haruka's dimension and assumed that they entered a different space.

He wondered how much father he needed to go before coming across Karin or Tatsuki, but a new man appeared. A feral looking individual with scraggly brown hair that fell across the unmistakable golden Arcana hued eyes and a fearsome build carved in battle scars, the largest being one that started at the base of his neck and fell straight down his chest, hidden further beneath his loose shinigami garb. A bloodied zanpakutō sat clenched in his hand.

Ichigo met Kosuda Tokujiro's rapt gaze and felt disturbed. An ominous smile crept along his thin lips. "You brought the Trigger," he said, then turned his amusement to Touma and Keigo. "To think you would appear before me, Devil." He pointed his sword in his direction, droplets of blood staining the gray beneath their feet. "Nagisa will mourn your death like no other. You are my perfect target."

"Ichigo, stay here," Touma ordered. "Asano, find Arisawa and Kurosaki's sister. Get to Nagisa. She will help, but listen to me, you can only go to Nagisa. Nobody else. Are you up for that?"

Keigo swallowed nervously, hands clenched at his sides. "What about you?"

"I'm buying you time before Enishi shows up. He should have been here already, but something must have happened on the way," he said, taking a few steps towards Kosuda.

Ichigo sprang forward on reflex. He wasn't thinking straight and staring at all that blood made his boil. Kosuda looked downright amused, but Ichigo was prepared to punch that smug expression off his face when he found himself thrown to the ground.

"What the—?"

Nagata stood before him, staring down at him in disappointment, before turning away from everyone. "Tatsuki! You better not be dead!"

"What took you so long?" came Tatsuki's snappish response. She emerged from a dusk of smoke holding Karin's limp body in her arms looking battered and bloodied herself, but resilient in the setting sun's light.

"Talk some sense into him," Nagata ordered, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in his direction. "I can take this asshole."

Kosuda's grimace broke into a different smile. "Now there's a mug I didn't miss."

"Right back at you, dipshit."

Nagata brought his fists together and in the blink of an eye, the two vanished from his line of vision only to reappear several meters above their heads with sounds of metal cutting through the air and exchanged blows.

Ichigo scrambled to his feet and rushed to Tatsuki, who met him halfway. He took Karin from her and couldn't shake the emotion snaking through him as he stared at her pale face. She was cold as marble in his arms and it scared him more than he cared to admit.

"I told her not to worry," Tatsuki told him. "I told her she would be okay once she woke up."

Touma and Keigo approached them.

"Are you okay, Tatsuki?" Keigo asked, eyeing a nasty gash across her neck.

She noticed and covered it with her palm. "Yeah."

Behind her, someone slammed into the buildings and looking up, Ichigo watched when Nagata dived towards the crumbling edifices to finish what he initiated. The air grew heavier.

His lungs were constricting.

"We need to get to Haruka," Touma stated, looking at Tatsuki. "She can heal you and might be able to stop Karin's transition like she did yours."

Though she seemed reluctant, she agreed with a nod and grabbed Ichigo by the arm, dragging him along through her travels to Haruka's house.

Touma and Keigo appeared together in the middle of Haruka's living room before Touma sprang toward the hallway leading into the rooms and Keigo vanished a second time without a second's notice.

Tatsuki collapsed on the couch, succumbing to the severity of her wounds and Ichigo slowly laid his sister's body on a smaller couch before following Touma's footsteps. He neared the end of the hallway before running into him and, in front of them, blocking the entrance into Haruka's room stood Shima, arms crossed.

"Why is there a barrier surrounding her room?" Touma asked heatedly.

"Is something wrong with her?" Ichigo interjected.

"Nagisa's finally hit her weakest point and as I'm trying to explain to Touma, it is impossible for her to use her power," Shima elucidated. "Attempting to halt the Magician's transition or even healing the Chariot could result in her death and without a fully awakened cycle our generation would suffer severe consequences because Nagisa hasn't named a successor."

"What do you mean she hasn't chosen a successor?" snapped Touma. "She—"

"What's going to happen to the Arcana that are active?" Ichigo cut in, brushing aside the swell of confusion. Haruka trusted Shima with her life and yet she didn't care to inform him that she already chose a successor? It was suspicious.

"That issue does not concern you or us for that matter, Nagisa needs to stay alive long enough for the cycle to complete itself," he said sternly, eyes looking to Ichigo, "and if I let you pass to make these requests of her, she will not turn you away. I understand that you didn't want your sister to become an Arcana, but some things are inevitable. Your sister may be dead for the next thirty minutes, but she will live again and you can keep her out of the Arcana's affairs. She doesn't have a responsibility to do anything; her awakening alone is beneficial because in death she seals a large amount of our power."

"You know, I never understood why En and Yamato hated you all their lives, but I'm starting to see it now," Touma told him, "and when the nice brother starts to see it, you're probably in dire need of some self-reflection."

Touma shoved Shima out of the way and pushed through the invisible barrier. Shima scrambled after him.

"Stay out of here! She needs to rest!"

Ichigo hesitated on his way past the threshold. The barrier felt like walking through a wall of gelatin.

Shima took a protective stance before Haruka's slumbering form on the bed and Touma threatened him. Shouting at each other wouldn't solve the problem they were having beyond the protected room, nor that Haruka's condition managed to worsen since that morning forced Shima to render her unconscious.

"Stop!" Ichigo shouted. "Aren't you supposed to have the same abilities as her? Why can't you stop Karin from transitioning and heal Tatsuki?"

"Because like every Arcana power, I have limits," Shima divulged. "I can't change my identity by sheer will, only Nagisa can do that, I need to have some physical contact with the host of the Tarot whose ability I want to mimic. Seeing as the Priestess is on Yamato's side and Enishi would rather kill me than allow me to borrow his power, I'm not going to be much use to you." He shook his head, brows drawn with unease. "Regardless, if I did have access to either power, I wouldn't be able to learn either one of them until another fifty hours pass and my currently borrowed ability expires. You would still be left with a choice. Heal your friend or halt your sister's transition and if you haven't noticed, the Chariot is an Arcana, she will be up and running in less than an hour."

Shima and Touma turned to the doorway uncomfortably.

Ichigo whirled around to see Tatsuki, holding an arm around her body to stop the excessive bleeding on a terrible gash there. "How long do you plan to stand there and argue? Karin's black energy is starting to corrode the place. She's going to need a barrier and a guide. Now."

Touma raised his hand, looking almost reliable until he opened his mouth. "Question! What does one do when the only person capable of doing either of those jobs is in something of a coma?"

"Are you serious?" Ichigo snapped. "You don't know how to raise a simple barrier."

"Well I wouldn't be talking if I was you, you've never been able to use kidō in your short shinigami career," the redhead retorted. "No kidō experience, no opinion."

Ichigo redirected his attention to Shima. "Will doing that affect her health?"

"Not that I'm aware."

"What the hell are you waiting for? Wake her up!" Tatsuki ordered, stomping out of the room.

Touma rushed after her, calling out to Ichigo that he consider staying within the barrier encasing Haruka's room to prevent pollution while Shima approached her bedside and woke her with a touch of his hand.

Haruka's eyes fluttered open, gold hued eyes moving side to side in desperation. She rose to a seat and swung her legs off the bed. She stared absently at the wall across her, the one covered from ceiling to floor in scraps of her hospital sketchbook art.

She snapped out of her trance with a sudden gasp and jumped to her feet moving past Shima and Ichigo, unable to look his way when she uttered a painful apology. She didn't make it past the doorframe when she sunk to her knees, holding a hand to her chest as a pained scream erupted from her. She screamed for it to stop.

"Stop!" she wailed.

Ichigo kneeled down beside her and reached out to touch her, but she bent forward on her knees, body tremulous and voice littered in choked back tears. She continued begging some unseen entity to stop beneath a shuddering breath.

"Don't kill him."

"What's happening to her?" He found himself wondering what caused this much pain to someone without evident wounds. Did it hurt to be as sick as she was? He didn't doubt it, but was it that excruciating?

"What happens every time one of her Arcana is wounded or killed?" Shima begun, standing behind them with a painful expression. "She lives the experience as it happens. She feels it as they do. She feels so guilty over creating them that she wants to share their pain to an extreme. On a normal basis, however, she should be able to suppress it to the point it doesn't interfere with her life, she can live with a pinch of pain, but when one of her Arcana suffers more than one wound, even a pinching can be uncomfortable. The weight on her shoulders is one nobody but she could understand and right now, her brother is in grave danger. Your sister's transition needs to be done quickly if he expects to survive Kosuda."

Haruka calmed after five seconds and in a haggard breath asked for Karin to be brought into her room. Touma did as she said and the steady energy flow within the barrier distorted.

Karin was set on the floor in front of Haruka and as soon as she placed her hands on the carpeted ground beneath them, a small barrier engulfed his pale sister. Haruka rested her forehead against it with eyes closed and with a soft, apologetic tone; she called out his sister's name.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered with shaking hands.

She said no more and despite her body's reaction to the pain she was in the middle of experiencing, she remained in perfect concentration.

Ichigo waited with his impatience. Touma returned to the living area to provide Tatsuki with first aid when Keigo's voice emerged from beyond the hallway accompanied by Ageha's cool baritone.

Karin gasped, eyes snapping wide open. She took life's first breath and the barrier shattered all around her. Haruka sat back on her haunches and Ichigo joined them on the floor.

His sister quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and he could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. He held her with one arm draped over her back, while his empty hand found Haruka's and squeezed in appreciation. He knew better, but it didn't feel real until he saw Karin wake up again.

Karin drew away. "Wait—where's Arisawa-san?"

"She's fine. She's here," he answered.

"I will go on and check on her well-being, excuse me," Shima announced and removed himself from the room.

"What happened?" she continued fervently. "There was this man and he—" She looked down, tapping her chest in search of a wound that healed a long time ago to find only the tear in her clothes. She sat back, eyes wide in disbelief as she looked from one face to another. "What's going on?"

"It's a long story," he said. He worried about Haruka's health. She lost what little color she had in her face and looked frailer than glass. "I'll tell you everything I know."

Haruka dropped his hand and slowly left her seat. She wobbled back to bed and dropped in with a deep exhale.

Not a moment later did Nagata appear in her bedroom covered in blood and the gashes to go with it. He took in the sight of Ichigo and Karin, staying longer on her than him, before he strode to his sister's side.

He dragged a nearby chair and leaned forward. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded slowly, eyes drooping closed. "You aren't planning to die yet, are you? We're almost there, Nagi, less than six days away. You think you can hold up until then?"

Haruka fought back exhaustion. "What happened to Kosuda?"

"Would've killed him, but he had reinforcements lined up," he answered. "Then Hiko appeared and ruined the party, but he didn't come alone."

"Did you see the Tower?" she asked, hopeful. "Is he okay?"

"I flipped him the bird," he answered with a laugh. "He looked so insulted. I guess he's fine. He's just reading a little confused."

Ichigo helped Karin to her feet and quietly ushered her out of the room. Haruka needed to be alone with her brother because when he arrived she looked so serene and when he talked, she lit up. He'd never seen that side of Nagata before, not even around his sister, so it took him by surprise.

"Who's that guy?" asked Karin.

"It's a long story too."

Tatsuki came into sight, still a bloody sight but her wounds were healed thanks to Ageha, who forgot to mention he studied enough of the Priestess healing ability to be able to integrate it to normal healing kidō. Keigo explained he knew to find him through a memory from one of the previous Hanged Man hosts to whom the information was disclosed.

Touma decided to prepare food for everyone, assuming they would be hungry after their encounter with Kosuda and when Karin begun asking questions, he promised to tell her everything. She stuck close to him until Tatsuki asked Ichigo if Haruka had a change of clothes for them since their own garb was in tatters.

Ichigo returned minutes later with extra clothing and pointed them both in the direction of two different bathrooms in case they wanted to scrub the dry blood off them.

Once the smell of food permeated the house, Nagata left Haruka's room showered and changed into fresh clothes.

"And why do you look so healed?" asked Ageha, eying him suspiciously.

"It's part all in the job description," he answered with a grin. He scoured the room. "Where's everyone else?"

"Arisawa-san and Karin are in the shower, but other than that, who else were you expecting?" answered Touma from the kitchen. "Food is done, by the way."

"How is Haruka doing?" asked Ichigo.

"Oh her? She's more resilient than a cockroach, not even nuclear warfare can take her," he joked, earning a chortle from Touma.

"Don't speak of your sister that way," Ageha chastised.

"Don't hate me for it; she's the one that came up with it."

"Why don't I believe you?" Ichigo asked.

"Because none of you get how hilarious she is in person," he responded. "Just don't get her started. She won't stop once she's at it."

Tatsuki slipped into the living room and walked past Nagata to offer Touma some help. Nagata eyed her in irritation and excused himself loudly. "I'm going to play with my little sister."

The Chariot rolled her eyes and went on to prepare enough place settings for four people at the squared glass table and four more on the steel counter. Although, Ageha suggested they set out two more in case they decided to cater to the remaining two Arcana on their side.

Ichigo knew it meant Aizen and hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"He prefers being on his own," Ageha told him as if he read his mind. "He's somewhat busy working out some of Nagisa's demands." He walked over to the counter and picked up a plate, raising it towards Touma. "I'm taking this to go. I have something to do before tomorrow comes."

Touma opened a steaming pot. "How much do you want?"

"Stack it up to here." He raised his hand well over the plate in demonstration.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Touma complied and once he handed back the plate with a mountain of food, Ageha bid farewell and vanished as Karin stepped into the living area. She stared wide-eyed at the wisps of black smoke as they began to clear and gaped at Ichigo.

"It's a long story," Ichigo repeated, earning an exasperated glare from his sister.

"No it isn't," Touma said innocently. "You can do it, Tatsuki can do it, Keigo can do it, I can do it, Enishi and Nagisa can do it. In fact, you can do more than that."

"What is he talking about?" she asked, pointing.

"Would it kill you all to act normal, at least until you explain it all to her?" Tatsuki chastised, looking at both Touma and Keigo.

"I haven't done anything!" Keigo complained.

"Enishi, Nagi, food is done!" Touma set the steaming pot in the center of the table and faced Karin. "We'll talk once you finish eating. Pick a seat. Ichigo sit with your sister."

Nagata and Haruka emerged from her haunt and quietly seated themselves at the counter next to one another looking more like siblings than they ever had. Touma looked distressed, whining about how he wanted to sit next to her, but was dismissed with a shove to the face by the eldest Housen brother.

"Is Wakatsuki-san the same as them too?" asked Karin, trying to avoid looking in her direction.

Keigo quickly swallowed his food. "Wakatsuki-san is _the _Arcana."

Karin blinked. "Eh?"

"According to hierarchy, she's at the top," answered Tatsuki knowledgeably. "After Wakatsuki is her successor, followed by her Evokers, then there are the Trump Cards, and finally the rest of the Arcana."

"Wait! Wait! How do you know so much?" Keigo demanded.

"Because I'm a great teacher," Nagata commented.

"I didn't know you wanted me to school him on this," Touma grumbled, arms crossed. "He should be able to fish out the basics from his memories."

"Not everyone learns at your speed," Nagata stated. "You need to stop rushing into everything, don't be a bastard to your students."

"Doesn't stop you," Tatsuki remarked snidely.

"Nobody is talking to you," he shot back.

"You should be nicer to Arisawa-san," Haruka added so quietly nobody would have heard it if they weren't waiting for it.

"Are we having this conversation?" Nagata barked. "If we are, I'm not participating. I'll leave right now."

"Don't bite my head off; I'm on your side."

"No, you're not. You're trying to instigate shit and if you do, well, you can count me out of buying you that stupid game you want. I can spend my first paycheck elsewhere."

"I'm surprised you got paid," mumbled Touma.

"I did a great job teaching history."

"Yeah, if shouting dates at students counts as teaching," added Ichigo.

"I didn't like it when you put me on the spot," Haruka admitted, picking at her vegetables.

"You forget how annoying you can be. Plus sickly quiet pushover girl is not a good look."

"Take that back!" Touma jumped of his seat, willing to come to her defense. "She's always been like that!"

"Not when she's pulling someone spleen out!"

"Don't say that in front of Karin, she's new here," she said with feigned insult. "She doesn't know you're a pack of idiots."

Tatsuki snorted.

The room erupted in dissent that lasted until Tatsuki silenced everyone with one firm shout. She redirected their attention to their new Magician who was in need of an explanation.

Karin grew weary and upset, fed up with the house's nonsense and exploded. She wanted answers to everything that was happening and why that strange man attacked her.

"I died," Karin went on strongly, surveying everyone present. "It felt like I died, but I woke up. I'm okay now. There isn't a stab wound and the only proof that it happened was a tear in my shirt. Why am I okay? What are you in now, Ichi-nii?"

"Nagi, you got this, right?" said Nagata, leaving his seat.

"Yeah, she's totally got it going on." Touma followed his brother's lead. "I'm going to get some ice cream anyone want any?"

"Oh, I want to go," Keigo announced, jumping out his chair with a level of anxiety.

"I want to go too!" Haruka decided.

Nagata shoved her back into her seat. "You're not invited, but feel free to request a flavor."

"Strawberry and banana flavored, three scoops of each," she ordered, "and hold the chocolate syrup, Touma."

"Are you coming, Arisawa-san?" asked Touma.

"No, no, don't take her," Haruka said quickly. "She's better at explaining things than I am, see how much Ichigo learned! Quiz him, he won't know anything. I say a lot of cryptic stuff, but that's about it."

Ichigo wouldn't deny her that and nodded in agreement.

"Don't just nod your head because you're afraid of your girlfriend!" Nagata accused.

"I'm not afraid of her!"

"Wakatsuki is your girlfriend?" asked Karin.

He felt his face heat up and his voice crack when he answered in confirmation. "Y-yes."

Haruka smiled pleasantly.

"I can stay and explain everything I know," Tatsuki decided. "Wakatsuki can fill in the blanks."

"I'm not good at that either."

"Then correct me if I'm wrong," Tatsuki rephrased.

"I have faith in you Arisawa-san and in Enishi's teaching ability," she said, smiling. "I'm going to head back into my room to maneuver my way through a forest full of zombies. You can join me once you finish up here. I have multiplayer games."

And just like that, she jumped out of her seat and sprinted back into her room.

"She's just full of excuses, isn't she?" Tatsuki observed.

"I told you she's hilarious in person," Nagata replied, vanishing alongside Touma and Keigo who laughed obviously getting the joke everyone else didn't.

"What was that about?" Ichigo asked moodily.

"It's a stupid joke. Don't worry about it," his classmate dismissed. "What's important is that Karin learns about everything that's happened since Wakatsuki came into your life and what's going to happen once she's out of it. She needs to know about Yuzu."

"What about Yuzu?" she demanded. "Don't tell me that monster going to go after her too! We have to do something!"

"He won't," Tatsuki affirmed. "He went after you because you're one of the Trump Cards. The Arcana isn't nearly as powerful as it is now that you became one. He thought you had already awakened, so by killing you he would be weakening the rest of us and making us easy targets for something that'll need more time to explain. But he won't go after Yuzu and if he does, she'll have Evokers to protect her."

Ichigo blinked, the revelation caught up to him fairly quick. "Yuzu is Haruka's successor?"

"What? She didn't tell you?"

"No, she didn't tell me," he said in mild outrage. "Why do you know?"

"I saw Yuzu the other day, she doesn't just have the Mark of the Arcana, she has the Mark of the Crown as well. The only other person that has it is Wakatsuki," Tatsuki explained. "En—Nagata told me that only select Arcana can see it. In this case, only those in her direct circle."

Tatsuki elucidated on the Arcana, specifically on accepting new memories and learning from them. She touched on the subject of war lightly after talking about how the Arcana came about, saying that hundreds of shinigami were gathered in Soul Society's underground to take a dose of a crystallized form of black energy created by Housen Nagisa, Wakatsuki Haruka's true identity. She said that they were being hunted by Kosuda Tokujiro, a half Arcana, but that he specifically wanted to kill Haruka, nobody else.

"Actually, I take that back. Kosuda will target anything Wakatsuki loves in order to hurt her and it's common knowledge that she loves the Arcana above all else," said Tatsuki. "But you and your sister have Touma around, unreliable as he is, he's the strongest fighter on her side and he's been granted special permission to fight if you or your sister are ever in danger."

"Then we have to do something!" Karin insisted. "You can't expect Yuzu to get involved in something like this."

"The type of power Haruka has, I don't want Yuzu to have to go through that," Ichigo confessed after seeing her on the floor paralyzed with pain when Nagata was in danger. "It'd be too much for her. She's too—"

"Innocence and kindness are the reasons why I chose Yuzu," Haruka said from the entrance of the hallway. She held her fisted hands at her sides and they were trembling. "I think everyone will benefit from a benevolent leader and it only works when it's her. Everyone else I considered was not a right fit, Yuzu was seamless."

"It's too much," Ichigo argued. "Yuzu's never had powers. She's been normal her entire life. She's never had to deal with these things—"

Haruka touched her fingers to her temple and slumped against the wall.

Ichigo got up. "What is it?"

"Kosuda attacked the Priestess and Faye of the Lovers. Yuka hit her head hard." She shook her head, pale eyes unfocused. "I think she might have a concussion."

"Maybe you should rest for a bit." Ichigo took her by the elbow and steered towards her bedroom. He shot Tatsuki and Karin a look over his shoulder and gave them time to continue with the conversation.

He helped Haruka into bed and she picked up her PSP. He took a seat at the foot of her bed.

"Don't ask any questions you might regret," she said knowingly. "Some things you need to keep to yourself until you see the picture as a whole." She gestured to the sketchbook pages tacked to her walls. "As you can see, I'm not there yet."

"Shima said you can shut it off—sensing, seeing, and feeling everything, but is it that easy?"

"You need a good distraction to help you," she answered. "Why do you think I bring a handheld game everywhere I go? It helps distract me long enough to ignore all the excess brain activity. I don't need to experience everything my Arcana are going through."

"It's not just when they're in danger?"

"Nope, there are some Arcana around here that have some sexual tension and Touma's always with one of his late night friends, as temptation personified, he can't help the way he naturally exudes pheromones, but it's easier with siblings, so I can't complain. Yamato is the quietest Arcana, but I think it's cause he knows that I can do this. Everyone on his side is relatively quiet so I don't feel pain as intensely as I would if Arisawa or Touma were wounded."

Ichigo stared at her in silence. Her eyes flickered up to meet his and he flushed, turning away on reflex. He snuck a glance and saw her bite the corner of her lower lip in deep concentration. Heat slowly crept up his neck.

A puff of smoke snaked its way around his periphery and Haruka rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his. She rubbed her check against his shoulder with eyes closed before placing her mouth against it. Her eyes were golden when they opened to look up at him and a wicked smile graced her lips.

"I should have hit on you from day one," she murmured against the fabric covering his shoulder. "We'd have more time then. You might have changed my mind."

He couldn't even look at her straight on with a blush on his cheeks. "Really?"

"Yes," she answered, "because I want more time now. Another week. A month. Maybe two." She exhaled and turned his face with her hand. "Let's not talk about morbid subjects."

She kissed him, setting aside her handheld game. They didn't have much time, so he gave himself the option of enjoying what was left or not. He decided on the former when he took her face in his palms and returned her advances with only a sliver of hesitation with every reminder of her deteriorating health. He treated her carefully so as to not break her and she was the exact opposite, holding onto him tight enough to leave bruises like she was desperate to leave some imprint of herself.

Deep down he sensed she was hurt and scared, but she was frantic to disguise it.

He held her close to him until forever passed and ended with the arrival of her brothers. He left the room as soon as Touma entered with her strawberry and banana ice cream, the small cup stacked high to accommodate six scoops.

He walked straight to Nagata, surprised to catch him alone while Keigo immersed himself in conversation about the beautiful clerk at the ice cream shop.

"She doesn't want to die," Ichigo stated.

"No shit, Sherlock, who does?" came Nagata's sarcastic remark. "Nagisa's doing it because she thinks it's her responsibility, but I mean, we've got our entire lives to decide whether or not we made a mistake or not. She's beating herself over it, but now that it's started, she can't stop it."

"We have to make her reconsider," he stated. "We have to find a way to help her."

"Fine, but first things first, you've gotta break the news to Yuzu. If there's any hope for Nagi's survival, it's in the completion of the cycle. There's an off chance that it can rejuvenate her." At Ichigo's scowl, Nagata continued. "Yuzu and Karin will always have Touma protecting them and even as big mouthed as Kosuda is, even he can't guarantee a win against a person he can't touch."

Ichigo couldn't let Haruka go. She probably felt like she was being held at gunpoint, so she had to be confident in her decision.

"Okay, but we need to convince her first."

"Deal."

Nagata offered his cup of chocolate ice cream. "Want some?"

"No thanks."

"Cool. I'm gonna go make your sister hate me, excuse me."

True to his word, by the end of the night Karin couldn't stand Nagata and when they arrived home via Touma, she turned to him. "You better kick that guy's ass as soon as you get your powers back!"

Ichigo didn't want to think of ever fighting Nagata after seeing him fight so many times before, but he nodded. He wanted to keep an eye on Karin and make sure she was as okay as she claimed to be. He knew she was terrified. He witnessed the small changes in her expression while listening to Tatsuki's explanation, but Karin naturally acted strong. She would act stronger with Yuzu involved and Ichigo would need to be able to protect two sisters from Kosuda, from Arashi, and Soul Society. He didn't know how yet and he didn't compel himself to find an answer because his friends were on Haruka's side and she was there.

Ichigo plopped down in bed after assuring Yuzu nothing happened when she noticed Karin was wearing different clothes. He greeted his father on the way up and withheld the truth about Karin's awakening because he wouldn't be able to sense the difference until she regained some strength.

He dropped back and thought back to the first day he met Wakatsuki Haruka, sitting against a wall trying to stay out of the rain despite being drenched to the bone. Her hair stuck to her face and neck, dark in the night's light, but her eyes caught the light.

She clutched her bag to her chest and she had surprisingly been the first to speak.

"What would you call it?" she had asked.

To this day, he didn't know what she was talking about, but now he noticed something he hadn't before. No matter how weak or meek she seemed, there was an uncanny strength and determination in her that was probably all the proof he needed to prove she knew exactly what she was doing from the start.

* * *

**Beta**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: A part of me remembers promising you this chapter yesterday and if that part of me is telling the truth then I want to apologize for you know, not keeping it. Also, I am still in the middle of writing that Arcana List I talked about last update, but I haven't been able to because...well...I've been busy doing other stuff and getting migraines (because I apparently couldn't live my entire life without knowing their pain).

On second thought, I think I'll release the partly done Arcana List on my LJ. You can look for it there, you know, just to get around who is what and whatnot. :D

Many thanks to **ruler of dragons** for reviewing the previous chapter! :)

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you in a couple of days with the next chapter! Maybe Friday? Eh? Eh?


	40. D-06

**Chapter Thirty Nine**, "D-06"

Ichigo walked downstairs surprised to see Wakatsuki Hiko and Arashi standing with Isshin. He sensed Karin upstairs and hoped Yuzu was with her because he didn't see her anywhere near the trio. Although, he tried backing away slowly to double check, Arashi caught him.

"Kurosaki-senpai," he called effervescently, acting opposite of his usual persona. "I didn't think you were home. Good morning."

"Morning," Ichigo said awkwardly. He extended his greeting to Haruka's father and ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water. He planned for Touma to be in the house early for him to dodge him to Haruka's home to determine whether she woke up better or worse, but he was smart enough to avoid his house.

He lingered in the kitchen in an attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation topic, but the trio was being extra secretive and the only bits and pieces he heard were about his father's resigning and Hiko's refusal to accept it without a good reason. Isshin naturally drew up a thousand reasons, most having to do with being unable to follow through with their plans for rebel Arcana and a distinct dislike of how Kosuda Tokujiro went about accomplishing his goals.

"I heard about his encounter with the Death Arcana and the Chariot Arcana," Isshin explained seriously as Ichigo disappeared up the staircase. He heard the rest of his statement clearly. "One of the two is a childhood friend of my son's and I have no intention of fighting a young girl that is innocent of the crimes you accuse her of. She wasn't Arcana then and I don't see her as one now."

"It won't be long before they lose what little humanity they have left," Arashi said confidently. "An Arcana is not complete until he or she accepts every memory recorded by their predecessors and that childhood friend of his may not stay the same. Oh, and before I forget, I would like to offer my condolences for your—"

Karin and Yuzu barreled past Ichigo, though he tried to stop the two. Karin smashed into the wall and Yuzu crashed into her, giggling as she pulled back. Ichigo peered over the edge as the two rushed down the staircase quick to ask their father for permission to go to the convenience store.

"Only if Ichigo goes with you," he offered.

Though Karin complained, Yuzu called out for him.

Ichigo made his way downstairs and set the glass of water on the nearest flat surface. His eyes remained on Arashi and the bewildered look he attempted to disguise with a poised mien, but it was Karin's presence that disconcerted him. Kosuda must have reported to him that he successfully killed the Magician.

"Let's go," Ichigo urged evenly, heading for the door.

"We'll be right back," Yuzu called, the first one out the door.

Arashi followed the trio out, surprising him. Ichigo stood between the shorter boy and his sisters as if he alone was enough to shield them from a fully powered Arcana.

"I should have seen it from the start," Arashi drawled, pale eyes focusing on the rooftop of the Kurosaki Clinic, "but I don't find it less amazing that Aizen Sōsuke offered his sword to her cause." He looked past Ichigo to Karin's glaring eyes and Yuzu's curious gaze. "I never expected an illusion to make it seem as though the Arcana was completed, so that only leaves one."

Ichigo moved to cover Yuzu and the action elicited a laugh from Haruka's twin.

"Time is running out, Kurosaki-senpai, and all you have to show for it is this," he said, gesturing in his direction. "You have less than five days to become strong, as skillful as Enishi, as strong as Touma, as smart as Nagisa. You need to be capable of overpowering a half Arcana, to best me, to fight against your Soul Society allies—Hirako and Kuchiki—and face old enemies—Ichimaru, Grimmjow, and Mireña—and finally, you will meet new adversaries in new people."

He was reminded of his flame-haired classmate and her long-term absence. She went by Yamaguchi Tomo, but he first encountered her in Hueco Mundo where she introduced herself as Mireña Cascabel, an Arrancar that decided to help him and his friends rescue Orihime in exchange for a favor. She made friends with them easily and did enough to convince the others that she was harmless and she made the transition from the white desert to the colorful human world.

"Where is she?" Ichigo demanded.

Hiko left the Kurosaki Clinic in something of a rush and called out for Arashi.

Ichigo repeated his question and in answer, Arashi smiled. He waved goodbye at him and his sisters before following his father down the street and disappearing behind a corner.

"What was up with Wakatsuki's brother?" asked Karin, attempting to dissuade the situation for her twin's sake.

He turned, ushering them forward. "Stay away from him, he's trouble."

"But he's always been nice," said Yuzu. "What was he talking about? Something about an Arcana? Is that like the Major Arcana in tarot cards?"

"How do you know about tarot cards?" asked Ichigo.

Yuzu put her finger to her chin and hummed pensively. "Uhm, I don't remember," she admitted, "but it was when dad wanted us to take dance lessons."

"Oh, I hated those dance lessons!" Karin said, annoyed. "I'm glad he gave up."

"The ballet instructor there used to have a deck in her bag," Yuzu continued. "She once dropped her bag and it fell out. I helped pick her things up and found the old deck. I asked her what it was and she explained it to me."

"Now that you mention it, didn't she used to look through at them while the other instructor was teaching?" asked Karin.

Yuzu nodded. "She used to set them out the same way every time she brought them out. In the middle she always line four cards in the center: Death, The World, Judgment, and Devil. Underneath, she put the Hermit, Hanged Man, and the Hierophant."

"You remember a lot," Ichigo commented.

"I have a good memory," she said defensively.

"Wait? She used to line Death, World, Judgment, and Devil in the same line?" he questioned. That sounded like too much of a coincidence.

"She said it was important because they were family."

"What was the name of that instructor?"

Karin shrugged.

"It was Tsukino Sara," Yuzu said immediately. "Didn't she also mention she had children?"

"Yeah, I think it was two of them," Karin agreed. "She said they were twins like us."

It clicked in the most absurd way. Haruka's grandmother's surname was Tsukino and he was well aware that her mother's name was Sara, though that seemed to be the only thing he knew about her. He dragged his hand across his face and sighed wearily.

"Did she ever say anything about her kids?" he asked.

"I think the daughter was sick and in the hospital," Yuzu said. "Oh and her son, I think he played a lot of sports."

"That was Wakatsuki's mom."

"What? Really?" asked Karin. "That's really weird."

"But dad has known the Wakatsukis for a long time," he said. "It probably isn't a coincidence that he signed you up for Tsukino Sara's dancing classes. And if she had that tarot deck and lined up those four specific cards at the center it means she might know something."

"What are you talking about, Ichi-nii?" Yuzu questioned, thoroughly perplexed.

"Stop talking weird," snapped Karin.

Ichigo hadn't realized he was having his epiphany aloud and shook his head in response, asking them to forget about it. This meant Haruka's mother knew about the Arcana, but did Haruka know that.

On the way home, he asked Yuzu a persistent question in his mind.

"Did Tsukino Sara ever tell you why she kept the family in the center?"

"Because they were family," Yuzu answered. "She wanted them to be together, but she said she couldn't find the two on the outside and that they were all very angry at each other."

"Why?"

"Because they didn't know how to be a family anymore."

Yuzu stared on ahead at Karin with a worrisome expression. "Ichi-nii, I think something happened to Karin yesterday," she said suddenly, looking up at him for comfort. "I asked her, but she tried to play it off. I don't think she's okay. I don't think she slept last night."

"Yuzu," he began hesitantly.

She stared at him in wait. "What is it?"

It took every bit of willpower in his body to allow himself to say it, but he did. Yuzu needed to know, it was her right.

"There's something you need to know." Karin paused up ahead, looking in their direction. "It's about Karin and Haruka and her brother. It's about her father, Touma, and me, too. It's about everything strange that's happening in this town with everyone."

He started out a bit excessive judging by the slight frightened look on her face.

"Yuzu," he said, then turned to his dark haired sister, "Karin, no matter what, I'll protect you, but something is happening…and it has to do with Haruka—she's—"

Touma came out of black smoke shocking Yuzu into silence.

"Touma!" Ichigo and Karin snapped in unison.

The redhead turned to Yuzu with an innocent smile. "I never properly introduced myself before, but I'm Housen Touma, the Devil Arcana."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, and Karin's the Magician, you're supposed to be the Sun Arcana, and your brother is an ex-shinigami and now he's a Trigger, they go around marking Arcana without knowing it and unconsciously wake everyone up," Touma blabbed. Ichigo and Karin stood in the background in disbelief. "You're giving me a very confused look like you don't believe anything I say and I don't blame you. The one time you had a run in with the supernatural that would probably make you believe half the things I'm saying, your brother's old sidekick used this thing that replaced your memories. I mean, you just saw me appear out of thin air, you need more proof than that?"

"Stop," Karin started.

"I can do it again. You want me to do it again?" asked Touma and extended a hand to her. "Here, you can come with me. We can go have a baguette in France."

Yuzu put her hand in his and the two vanished.

"I'm going to kick his ass!" growled Ichigo.

Someone grabbed him around the waist and when he turned, he saw Haruka smiling up at him. "Guess what we're doing today?"

Four others appeared from the smoke. Ageha, Nagata, Tatsuki and Keigo stood in a semi-circle.

"Everyone?"

"I invited Orihime, Ishida, and Sado," Tatsuki said, looking down the street. "I told Orihime to meet us here with everyone."

"What is going on?"

Ageha was in the process of dabbing sunscreen on his arms and Nagata looked too suspicious in a pair of glasses.

"What about Yuzu? Touma just kidnaped her!" shouted Karin.

Haruka perked up. "I sense a disturbance in the air; I will move on ahead and will take Asano-san with me!" she announced strangely, prancing to Keigo who followed her lead.

"Be my guide, Wakatsuki-san!" he shouted in answer and grabbed her outstretched hand. The two dodged.

Nagata grumbled in annoyance.

"Nobody told you to challenge her to that drinking contest," Tatsuki chided.

"She's sixteen, she can't drink!" Ichigo stated. "Why were you drinking with her?"

"She drank prune juice," Ageha corrected.

"That sounds unfair."

"She hates prune juice. She nearly gagged three times."

"Can everyone please stop talking?" Nagata complained, straying away.

"What about Yuzu?" asked Karin worriedly.

"Here, I can take you," Tatsuki suggested, then turned to Ichigo. "Make sure you're here when everyone else comes. I already explained everything to them and they're all pretty angry."

Tatsuki took Karin by the hand and the two left in another cloud of smoke.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I heard you wanted Nagisa to change her mind about dying," said Ageha, "and I think it's a great idea. It's bad if she catches us, but I think we can just pretend she's gone crazy. So I organized an outing to a nice beach. She likes water so I figured it'd be the most honest venue. It'll be an all-day engagement."

"I left your dad a good note. Everyone's going to go psycho for a bit thinking I kidnapped you and your sisters, but hey, I'm good at stealing people," Nagata informed. "You ready to go?"

"No."

"Oh look your friends are here."

Ichigo heard Orihime call out to him. She waved at him from afar and hurried to them with Ishida and Chad in tow.

Ageha went through the trouble of introducing himself and Nagata to everyone.

Orihime looked around curiously. "Where's Tatsuki-chan and Keigo-san?"

"They went on ahead with Nagisa and Karin."

"Oh, Karin-chan is going too?"

"Yuzu as well," Ichigo said, "or at least I think she did."

"She did."

Irritated, Nagata grabbed Ichigo by the arm and Uryu by the collar. "Enough chitchat, I want to get there already."

"Hey, wait!"

No sooner did the two start to complain that they were removed from the street and relocated to a split road full of shops. Haruka and Keigo were running around among a crowd of people wandering up and down the streets. Beyond a flower shop, he spotted Touma, Yuzu, Karin, and Tatsuki in front of a bakery.

Ageha followed shortly with Orihime and Chad, sending them off to join the others.

"This is a strange group of friends, Kurosaki, even for you," Ishida commented, keeping Haruka in observation.

Nagata smacked him upside the head. "I don't like people calling me strange," he said in explanation, pushing past them. "Everyone get together, we're picking up supplies and groceries before heading off to Touma's house! Nagisa, get the hell off that building before I get you down myself."

Ichigo looked up and sure enough, Haruka was standing on the ledge of a building calling unnecessary attention to herself. He couldn't deny they were a strange group, not when Touma managed to get slapped and shouted at by a foreign woman that stalked up to him with a personal mission—one she accomplished.

The redhead merely rubbed his cheek walking astride Tatsuki and Ichigo's sisters who were trying not to stare.

Nagata rushed off to shout at Haruka until she complied with his demands and climbed down to join them. Touma split the chores between four groups because there were too many things needed to accommodate twelve ill-prepared beach-goers for an endeavor meant to last twenty-four hours.

Yuzu stalked off with Touma and Orihime to buy food. Tatsuki took Karin and Chad to find a good store to buy swimwear, extra clothes, sunscreen, and other miscellaneous items they might need for the hike to the wild beach and for the water.

Haruka, from the lazy group, suggested they dodge into the beach to avoid the climb and Nagata shouted at her for even recommending it before sending her off ahead to Touma's home in the area. She went along grumbling and he hoped she didn't antagonize Ishida or Keigo while nobody was around to stop her.

He was stuck following Nagata and Ageha from one corner store to the next in search of wine and beer.

* * *

"What are you?"

Haruka blinked.

"Don't ask her that!" Keigo defended. "She doesn't like it."

Ishida's frown deepened. "Neither one of you is human, but I remember a time when you were. Suddenly you can teleport from one country to another and Ichigo seems to have returned to power."

"It's not really teleporting, it's just we're faster than you are, but I mean if you think about it it's not not teleporting." She shrugged and dropped into a heavily cushioned seat. "You are very observant, Ishida Uryu."

Keigo meandered in the kitchen surprised to find the refrigerator fully stocked with fresh food and made it an announcement.

"This is the reason you were sent with the lazy group," she said. "You ask all the right questions, but never at the right time."

She felt a pinch in her chest and stood, unable to sit still for the prickle of pain that followed until it build up to the point she couldn't breathe without feeling as though something had pierced her lung. She remained calmed and excused herself to inspect the upper level of the house.

She stumbled up the last step, but caught herself on the wall.

"Are you okay, Wakatsuki-san?" called Keigo.

She smiled at him and nodded. She made it to the end of the hallway before she collapsed on her hands and knees, caught off guard by the bile she vomited. The haggard cough that escaped her brought Keigo rushing up the staircase to see the pool of in front of her.

The stench of rotten blood lingered heavily in the air between them and she touched her fingers to her lips, pulling them away she saw they slick and red. She lifted her eyes to Keigo and felt embarrassed. She hastily attempted to clean the mess with the bottom of her skirt, but in her desperation it only scattered and a new wave of dizziness struck before she regurgitated a second time.

"Don't tell anyone," she whispered painfully. "Please."

She heard the creak of the staircase and Keigo rushed to it, taking an empty bucket on the way, in time to stop the Quincy from seeing her on the floor in humiliation. Uryu thought he heard something and for the first time in his life, Keigo uttered a believable lie. "I spilled one of the buckets up there, now I need to clean up the mess."

Uryu left the stairs and Keigo scrambled past her into the nearest bathroom. He grabbed as many towels he could from inside and put them over the blood on the ground. She reached for the one he offered and used it to staunch her nosebleed.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to help.

Keigo batted her hand away determined to do it himself. "Someone is hurt. Is it here?" he asked hesitantly.

"No. It's there. Kosuda's hurt Kazumasa," she said. "He's looking for Aizen."

"Will he be okay…?"

"Yes, you can't kill Kazumasa without killing Faye, but—"

She stopped herself. If she said it, acknowledged it, thought it—it was over. Her plans weren't completed yet. Yuzu wasn't an Arcana. Ichigo wasn't ready. She wanted seven more days; she would take half of that if it seemed selfish.

"You're dying," Keigo finished, meeting her eyes in concern.

She closed her eyes. She was dying.

* * *

Ichigo took the stairs two at a time after Keigo mentioned Haruka was upstairs. Tatsuki's group was the one they were waiting on and when they were called, she informed them that they only needed a few more things to buy before finishing. Touma, Yuzu, and Orihime were in the kitchen preparing individual lunches for everyone.

He found her lying in bed sleeping, hair spilled behind her head like a tangled snake. He noted a strange atmosphere about her and moved closer trying to place his discomfort without avail. He sat down at the foot of the bed and stared at her, heart beating noisily in his chest as he anxiously waited for some signs of life.

Then, her chest rose and fell so slowly he might have missed it and she pursed her lips. Relief washed over him. He wondered if it would always be like this—sitting by waiting to see if she was still breathing. He feared for her and what might happen once she was gone. Today, she seemed perfectly healthy, but yesterday, she was acting strangely. He figured Kosuda and the pain she experienced had a lot to do with her behavior, but she wasn't telling him everything. She naturally avoided certain conversation topics and preferred being secretive above all else, but it felt strange that he sensed something was wrong and she hadn't told him about it. He'd gotten used to getting answers from her.

He touched her shoulder and she startled, her eyes snapped open and they were golden.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said quickly, removing his hand.

She blinked several times before the gold hue of her eye broke away in tiny fleck leaving behind the usual pale blue. She shook her head and seated herself. "It's fine," she said, looking past the open doorway after rubbing her eyes. "Is everyone here?"

"Only Tatsuki's group is still out, but Touma, Yuzu, and Inoue are making bento downstairs and I think Ageha and Nagata got started on the wine early." As if on cue, Nagata and Ageha's boisterous laughter drifted up the staircase. "See?"

"What about Asano and Ishida?"

"Ishida is curious about the Arcana," he admitted.

"I think anyone would be curious about the Arcana. We've a strange purpose." She dragged herself up and scratched the side of her head. "How is Yuzu?"

"In denial," he replied. "I don't think she knows this is real."

She laughed, clapping her hands in her excitement. "That's perfect!"

Yuzu wasn't taking it as seriously as the situation required given that her awakening might result in saving Haruka's life. However, he couldn't ask Yuzu to give up a normal life for something far more complicated—one where she would likely be in more danger than not. He didn't want that for either of his sisters, but Karin was already involved. She transitioned yesterday in under an hour with Haruka's help and since then, she kept to herself. She wouldn't be opening up any time soon, not until she figured some things out on her own and though she never gave him cause to worry, but he did anyways.

He hoped today would only focus on Haruka given than Yuzu could be stubborn in accepting farfetched realities like this. Maybe not the supernatural, but about what she represented in the Arcana world. That might hit her like a ton of bricks and he'd rather someone with some sense broke it down for better comprehension or it would frighten her. She needed to understand that although she was to become someone of great importance among the Arcana that there would be people ready and willing to protect her if necessary.

Thinking of Yuzu reminded him of the conversation they were having earlier.

"Was your mother a shinigami?" he blurted, earning a skeptical glower.

"That was a bit sudden, no?"

"Sorry. It's just you don't talk about her much."

"You don't talk about your mother either," she teased.

He frowned. "You never asked about her."

"Same here."

"Yes," she said in answer.

"What?"

"Yes, my mother was a shinigami," she confirmed, and before it came into question she continued, "and my grandmother is also a shinigami, but she's a different type of shinigami and I don't want to talk about that."

"Does she know about you?" he asked sharply.

"Well, she knows I'm not right, but other than that nothing. She isn't involved with my dad's work, nor does she care for it." She shrugged. "Why are you suddenly curious?"

"Your mother was a dance teacher in Karakura Town," he told her.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"My dad used to take Karin and Yuzu to a dance studio and she was their teacher," he began, watching the color return to her face and a glimmer appear in her clouded eyes. He went on to tell her Yuzu's story about Sara's deck of tarot and the way she used to line the cards during her break as well as how she talked to her young student in complete detail of them. He mentioned a bit of Karin's input which related to her goading about her children, her beautiful girl in the hospital that was so smart but so quiet and her rambunctious boy who was overactive and loud.

Haruka listened, face unchanging. He couldn't read her.

"Did she know about you?"

"Yes." Her voice was a meek whisper.

"And your brother?"

"Yes."

"Did she really die in an accident?"

"No."

Ichigo felt his eyebrows furrow with concern. "Haruka, how did she die?"

She bit her lip, unyielding to the emotion overflowing in her eyes, and hesitated. "I—I don't want to talk about that," she bit out, faltering and pained. She averted her eyes.

He stilled a moment and she dropped back onto her side and he knew she didn't want to pursue the subject of her mother any longer. He left her bedside and rummaged through her bag to return with her PSP. She took it with a quiet murmur and begun to play it.

The distraction worked. The hesitation in her body left her and he let her talk to him about her game, listening to the infusion of joy in her voice. He observed her, drank in the sight of her features, the sharp lines of her face, jaw, nose, and cheekbones. He saw the blush of color in her normally pale skin, the curve of her eyelashes and the strands of gold and brown in the ponytail that fell across her neck.

He found his face growing hot and his hands clammy. He swallowed thickly, his heart skipping a beat, when she stared directly into his eyes. She did it on purpose, he presumed.

There were moments as the noise downstairs quieted that she traced lines and circles over his open palm and her touch was gentle and soothing. He closed his eyes for a minute, only one, but that single minute was enough to put him to sleep.

* * *

Haruka loathed the hike uphill so much that Touma ended up giving her a piggyback ride the whole way and she refused to be put down and antagonized Nagata for suggesting she stop being lazy. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves. Ageha kept his sisters entertained by talking about the country's lucrative history. His friends stuck together and helped each other out when the terrain turned treacherous.

By the time they reached the wild beach, Haruka had managed to annoy Nagata into sobriety and when he insulted her, she hurled him across the sand and into the ocean. Everyone was left speechless, except for Nagata. The second he broke through the blue surface, far off in the wide ocean, he made angry gestures while shouting obscenities at the top of his lungs.

"See, I'm not lazy," Haruka said, pleased with herself and jumped down to the sandy beach intent on running straight for the shoreline.

Touma and Keigo rushed after her. Ageha helped Yuzu and Karin get down by dodging.

"Wakatsuki-san is so strong," Orihime admired.

"She's also quite moody," Ishida added.

"Don't let her hear you say that," Tatsuki warned. "Wakatsuki can be a little sensitive."

"That didn't look like a little," Chad mumbled.

"Let's just get down," Ichigo suggested, the first to attempt climbing down.

Once Nagata swam to shore, he built a fire and sat in front of the flames half-dressed and shivering under a towel, drinking alcohol to fight the cold. Ageha wandered off in the midst of a swimming contest seeming to prefer his own company after being exposed to so many different personalities. Orihime and Chad stayed by the edge of the shore cheering Tatsuki and Keigo on while Karin and Yuzu rooted for Haruka and Touma. Haruka beat everyone out and despite everyone claiming she cheated, Ichigo believed her when she said she hadn't. She looked so happy in the water, but he hated how uneasy it made him feel to see her that way.

Ishida stayed nearby engrossed in his own thoughts, he participated in any ongoing activities when Orihime dragged him along.

Nagata approached Ichigo nearing sunset.

"Do you think any of this will change her mind?" asked Ichigo.

Death hummed in response.

"What about Karakura Town and Soul Society? Do you know anything?"

"Only that it's been suspiciously quiet on their front, either that or Faye figured out a way to block us out and then that gives us reason to worry that we're here getting shitfaced to help a poor dying girl reconsider her position." Nagata took a seat on the sand beside Ichigo with a sigh. "That little sister of yours is a strange one."

"Your sister's pretty weird too."

"My sister is a closet otaku."

"She's not an otaku."

"A zombie otaku, the worst of their kind. She implied that if she survived until Halloween she plans to dress up like a zombie." Nagata took another swig of alcohol. "Cross your fingers she's about to go. She's huge on Halloween."

"That's not funny."

"You can't expect me to look at it any other way. I'd rather laugh than lament it," he admitted. "I'm somewhat indifferent over realizing that there's nothing I can do to save her. She's my sister and I've had her far longer than you've had yours combined. She's aggravating and weird and bossy and self-centered and incredibly lazy, but hey, that's what sisters do for a living. I'll see her again if the Arcana live through this war, in five cycles."

"I don't have that long," Ichigo blurted sharply. "I only see her now and I want to do something, but she's too pigheaded to change her damned mind."

Haruka was chasing Yuzu around and when she caught the younger girl, Touma threw a water balloon at the side of her head. She reached for one from a blue pail and launched it at him, nailing him between the eyes. Karin and Tatsuki shot several at Yuzu and Haruka before running away from Orihime and Chad's water balloons. Keigo fell prey to Haruka and Yuzu and cowered in the fetal position.

Ichigo wanted to see Haruka like this every day, but he wouldn't choose.

"Enishi! Be in my team!" called Haruka waving him over.

"Duty calls." Nagata left his seat after setting aside his bottle.

"Ichigo! Join our team!" cried Keigo.

"That's not fair! Ichigo is coming to our team!" Tatsuki shouted.

Ichigo got up and joined Keigo and Touma. They were suffering losses due to Keigo's cowardice in the face of water balloons.

Evening fell as the games persisted, but exhaustion came quickly. The moon shone in the ocean's reflective surface and the large flames on Nagata's pyre set walls of stone aglow.

Ageha resumed speaking with Karin and Yuzu furthest from the group taking it upon himself to speak to the girls with necessary sensibility and unbiased opinion. Ichigo certainly preferred him to Touma or Nagata, but given the array of emotion crossing his sisters' expressions, even the soft-spoken Hermit proved unable to tell the story in a way that wouldn't leave that type of impression. At times, he caught his sisters stealing glances in his direction, for Haruka's presence, not his own.

Nagata and Keigo were with the others pretending that palm reading was a major part of their many Arcana abilities. He also hit on Tatsuki and she turned a beet red in under a minute. Ishida, Chad, and Orihime asked questions and they were answered by the three Arcana accompanying them.

And then, the night ended and they were on their way home.

Ichigo felt like he had been shaken out of a dream, but he would welcome the comfort of his bedroom.

* * *

Haruka stood in the background accompanied by shadows and watched everyone gather their things, readying to travel straight to Karakura Town. Above all she wished to help, but everything hurt on the inside. Regardless of the constant pain, she enjoyed every hour in the day. She welcomed the peace it brought her to find so many distractions at once to keep her busy enough to forget her terrible state of health. She interacted with everyone and hoped to spend more time with Ichigo's friends, though she felt a tad awkward being around Orihime, who was known to have a crush on Ichigo.

Nagata and Touma promised to stay up all night with her to watch movies or play video games back home and she wanted nothing more than to do that, but her fear escalated with every ticking minute. She sensed abysmal dread and hopelessness.

The time came and went. She would too, but it hurt.

It hurt more than it ever did before because today proved different from the rest. Today, she recognized her fear. She identified it for what it was and none of it had to do with Kosuda Tokujiro, no matter the vile Arcana prosecutions that made him smug. This was different and she'd been denying it the entire time.

"Are you coming?" Ichigo asked, his presence soothing.

Haruka nodded and started to follow his lead, but she stopped. "Ichigo."

Everyone else remained out of earshot. She wouldn't have cared if they were around to listen.

Ichigo turned around interested in what followed.

"Ichigo," she repeated brokenly, the abyss growing wider in her chest. Emotion took root in her soul and made her feel alive again, alive like she was before the Arcana, alive like she truly had a purpose, and now it made her cry for its ephemeral stay—no lingering wisps, only her sadness. "Ichigo."

He worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He stood in front of her.

"Please save me," she whispered the wrecked plea and the first tear rolled down her face. He stared speechless. "Please, Ichigo, I don't want to die." Those foreign words took everything in her to admit. "I don't want to die. I don't want to die."

And the tears came rushing and her biggest fear was on repeat in her choked up voice.

Ichigo took her in his arms, speaking her name in relief. He crushed her against his body's warmth and the out-pour of emotion continued unrelenting.

"Save me. Please."

But through the Hermit's Eye she saw no salvation.

* * *

Haruka bid farewell to the group as it broke away until she remained with her brothers at her side and Ichigo with his sisters. The Kurosaki Clinic was right around the corner and once the noise level quieted, Isshin burst out to smoother his daughters with the love of a concerned parent. The bearded shinigami made a grab at Ichigo, but the teenager kicked him in retaliation, and when he recovered, he attempted to attack Nagata, who laughed before vanishing. She and Touma followed shortly after further confrontation was presented.

She dropped into one of the comfortable chairs in her living room and closed her eyes. The tears stayed dried in her eyes and her throat felt dry with emotion. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hummingbird's and the breath stolen from her lungs when Ichigo's arms wound around her tightly, crushing her to him unable to think of the words to say. She belatedly acknowledged that asking him to save her was far beyond his power, but she lived that day. Surrounded by friends and new faces, she lived as she had never lived before and she wanted to continue doing so. Deep down, as she laughed until her sides ached and ran until her legs throbbed, she never imagined to feel this way.

For the longest time, her motivation had been single minded. She functioned for the benefit of her Arcana, she fought for their continued existence and a peace between themselves and Soul Society and she'd been hopeful to the point of disappointment. The Arcana wasn't entitled to life because they attacked Soul Society. They weren't allowed to have emotions, no resentment, no malice, sadness or hope. And after surviving what hundreds of others didn't, she wondered several times if it would have made a difference to stop her brother from turning against the shinigami when everyone else pretended at willingness to become the world's last resort. She wasn't angry then, she like everyone else was hurt, terribly wounded and scarred on the inside despite the wounds inflicted on them healing faster than normal, everyone ached and that pain resonated inside her. She couldn't stop the war from happening. She could only protect her friends and family, but in her weakness, she tried to fix it. Fix the mistake and attempt to bridge peace only to be killed repeatedly as an example for the rest to see and fear.

On the First Cycle, she lost her brother. He betrayed his family for greed. He convinced the captain-commander of his innocence in the Arcana's actions and pledged loyalty to the Spirit King, willing to earn trust by killing her. Yamato accomplished it. He stayed true to his word to the old commander and won the battle by striking her with the killing blow when she believed he was on her side. As she uttered her final words, lying on the ground drowning in her blood, she thrust his own blade through his chest cavity and watched his eyes craze while his body broke away into a thousand white feathers that spiraled above her only to disappear into a vast whiteness called Oblivion. The fact that she resorted to his banishment left her a gaping wound in her. She lost a piece of her identity, the part of her that believed in him unconditionally and thought she knew him better than the rest. She should have killed him that day instead of subjecting him to that punishment. She hated his suffering and the pain she caused him.

Every cycle to follow ended in tragedy. On the Second Cycle, she awakened at eleven when a Hollow succeeded in killing her but when it came to devouring her soul he failed. She opened her eyes and saw the world, three hundred years older than she last remembered and the differences struck fear in her. However, she steeled herself and searched the world for her brother, hoping he like several other hosts was a different soul embodying an Arcana. She heard stories of his violent death and she didn't want history to repeat itself. But Enishi awakened whole, like her, and he built their army up to sate his thirst for revenge. In that cycle, she believed Kouyou lost faith in her. He lived, but lost the son she swore to protect. He didn't need to say it, but he blamed her. His son was in arm's length when Kosuda lurched forward to strike herself and three others. She protected the Sun Arcana believing the others strong enough to defend themselves against the assault, but another Arcana had been working for her brother and they paralyzed the two, but she didn't want to blame Yamato. She remembered a sharp red color stretch across her eyes and the warmth of that ugly red sliding down her face in thick lines.

After the Second Cycle, she endured rocky relationships with the hosts of every non-Original Arcana that remained on her side. Kosuda Tokujiro's was imprisoned because he killed one of the Soul Society's Arcana allies seeing no difference between her or the Arcana they dubbed enemies. She heard stories many years later about how, as he was being dragged to the great underground prison for a lengthy sentence he divulged his plans to purify the world of anything and everything bearing the mark of the Arcana, even himself, and the threat earned him another two hundred years.

By the Third Cycle, she wanted the courage to give up the fight. She feared another war might emotionally shatter her, so she attempted with more determination to accomplish peace and Wakatsuki Hiko looked willing, but peace didn't happen and she disappointed her brothers.

She was starting to disappear behind Enishi's determination and nobody wished to listen to her. She didn't have a voice. She didn't have a vision. She only had a wilting flower called hope and a promise to solve the problems.

The Fourth Cycle destroyed her and when she died, she made a choice she regretted throughout the start of the Fifth Cycle. She would take it all back if she could. It was too late now. She didn't have the strength because she spent it all.

She'd never feared death, but it terrified her today.

Haruka stiffened when Nagata put his hands on her shoulders. "Shower, then food, then games. Good?"

She chased away her thoughts and left her seat. Everything that followed was a blur. She showered, ate, and played games with her brothers as they promised. She laughed and lied and waited.

Touma fell asleep first, hugging a pillow on the bed next to her. Nagata didn't last long after and ended up curled at the foot of the bed. She sat with her back pressed against the headboard, her mobile phone flashing a new message that read, "_It's time_," and waited with the television's glow lighting the room. She bit her lip and held back tears. She wiped away the first to drop and sniffled, crushing the phone in her hand and letting the pieces fall to the ground. She left her seat for the closet and gathered blankets and extra pillows.

She eased a pillow under Nagata's head and pressed her palm against his head, hoping he wouldn't stay angry long for what she did to him. She shot him with a dose of energy that functioned like a tranquilizer to keep him sleeping throughout the night and help with the hangover he'd otherwise be nursing, and then draped a blanket over him. She threw the thickest blanket on Touma because he liked the heat and did what she did to Nagata to him. As she blinked, a tear fell away, splashing against his cheek and she whispered goodbye.

Haruka tugged on a sweater and pushed her feet into comfortable tennis shoes. She crossed the threshold of the room and touched the doorframe, encasing the entire room with a barrier so strong it would take hours to shatter. She dodged to the Kurosaki Clinic and encased it in a similar barrier before doing the same to Tatsuki and Keigo's home except she came upon an unsuspected shock after turning away from the building where the Hanged Man lived.

Asano Keigo stood under lamplight shivering in the cold night. "I'll go with you."

She smiled ruefully. "Will you?"

He nodded in affirmation. The cold wasn't the only cause for his trembling and she should've sent him home, but he didn't look like he'd take no for an answer and she wanted the company.

She reached out for him. "Let's go."

Keigo took her hand and a cloud of darkness swept past them like a wind tunnel to deliver them to a broken warehouse she recalled from long ago when Nagata reappeared in her life. She acted as if she didn't recognize him as her brother because he didn't see her either. It'd been so long since he'd last seen her look young and his memories didn't reach him until a little after she went through her fake awakening. She was happy to see him up and running, secretly working to make this cycle different from the rest.

This cycle she would fight.

A scrapping sound startled Keigo. "What's that?"

The shadowed room came to life as the lights shone down on them, some bulbs were broken, some were dim, but the ones that worked provided all the light she needed to face him.

She saw him seated in the heavy shadows of the room, face marred with scars she had witnessed her shield inflict upon him, and narrowed golden eyes enthralled by rage and a desire to carve her heart from her chest. Beneath him lay Kazumasa, dark haired matted with blood, the bruises and wounds on his body frozen to cause him torture.

Kosuda fisted his hand in Kazumasa's hair and forced his head up, a bulging bruise atop his eye blinded him. There was not enough life left in him.

"D-Don't," he struggled, blood spilling from his mouth. "N-Nagisa run."

_'I will die for you,' _his painful words ran through her head and she closed her eyes.

_Not today,_ she sent back and watched him drop his head.

"Tsukamoto-san," called Keigo.

In the blink of an eye, the tip of his blade had pierced her chest. Blood prickled from the wound as the air left her lungs and her heart hammered wildly. She stared into his glazed eyes, watching them glint euphoric. If she moved, she died.

She wouldn't die alone today, not if she could help it. She didn't need to signal for Keigo to focus on Kazumasa, so she summoned her own blade and asked it to be her partner one last time.

* * *

**Beta**: LULuckyTiger

**xl**: To be completely honest, I have been working up to this chapter from the very beginning and I'm sure some of you can see how. Haruka, who has always been very careless with her life, finally asks to be saved, but saving her is a difficult thing when she is so determined to play the sacrifice.

Hold your breath, Paroxysm (Part One) is coming to an end tomorrow. I decided not to prolong the time between the two chapters and I hope that you will enjoy the conclusion. :) If you have questions, maybe some will be answered then or maybe they will carry on into part two.

Many, many thanks to **reality deviant** and **ruler of dragons **for reviewing the previous chapter.

Thank you for reading! :)


	41. D-05 END

**Chapter Forty**, "D-05"

Kosuda sent Haruka flying straight out the warehouse ceiling and cast one final look in Keigo and Kazumasa's direction before tossing aside his blade and jumping up through the gaping hole after her. She swiped at him with the blunt edge of the blade, but he blocked with his left arm and hit her with a right hook. She spiraled down for several minutes uncontrollably landing on a neighboring warehouse as softly as possible, though hard enough to dent the surface.

Kosuda gave her no time for recovery, the energy about him growing strangely as he summoned his sword back in his possession. She crossed her sword arm over her shoulder as he came closer prepared to parry a slash when she stuck him with the diamond hilt of her sword, hearing the bone in his jaw dislodge painfully. In his fury, he slammed his fist in her stomach and crushed her face against his knee when she doubled over, breathless. She caught herself mid-air to breathe the cold and heard his blade singing in the high-pressured winds but she didn't see it in his hand as he came like a bullet in the sky. The moon shone down on them, peeking through the dark clouds.

A sword cut through the flesh, muscle, and bone from her sword arm. She screamed as she grabbed onto what remained, blood flowing endlessly from it, and felt Kosuda's blade sink into her stomach, slicing deep across. His face alit with laughter.

"You didn't think I'd come alone, did you?" he asked teasingly.

She fell, the power zapped from her to be replaced by indescribable pain, and crashed straight into a mountainous area. She dislocated an arm and ruined her back when she hit the ground. She was drowning in her own blood a second time. She agonized as she gathered the last bit of energy to do the impossible. As The World, she was allowed to put on the façade of another Arcana, thus taking on their abilities, but she was limited to doing so once in twenty-four hours. There was a consequence in forcing a change before the allotted time and for someone without a lot of time left, she hated to take the risk. She didn't have a choice anymore.

Using a combination of The Lovers ability to change emotions, she embodied peace, and with the Magician, she projected it to her Arcana so they would not feel her death nearing or the weakness causing it.

Kosuda appeared in her periphery, standing high up at the edge of the crater, but the humor left his face. "You're supposed to be stronger than this," he called bitterly. "Why you so weak?"

_You'll find out soon enough._

Haruka closed her eyes and with the last shred of spiritual energy strumming through her she made the last great effort. She removed the Magician's masks, leaving only her own and with the power of the World, she created a dimension—an endless white room—that might give everyone some peace. She wanted to say goodbye, but she couldn't repair her body in the process. Everything was supposed to be different there, but she was only able to alter Kazumasa's appearance and in it, even Yuzu had transitioned when in reality she remained human and uninvolved. She couldn't control the ability and that only meant one thing. She didn't want to think it, but it was cold and heavy upon her chest.

She sobbed one final time and the pain left her.

* * *

"I-I-Ichi…go."

Haruka struggled to even her tone. Her voice broke in a strain of violent convulsions and unspeakable pain she wanted to drink down like hard liquor post-break up, but whatever strength she held several minutes ago depleted. She stood with shaking knees and the urge to sink onto them. A soft pitter-patter sounded, resonated in the quiet room accompanied by her struggle for oxygen.

"_Ichigo_," she hissed, body raked in pain. Life spilled from her lips, running down her chin in large quantities.

Ichigo stirred, flattening against the mattress when her shadowy figure caught his eye. He turned fully, brown eyes reflecting the damage a half-hour bout with Kosuda inflicted on her. He stared on in disbelief, _and why wouldn't he?_ She couldn't stand because her insides were torn and several bones were broken. The open gash on her torso would have spilled her guts had she not wrapped a sweater tight around it, though the blood soaked through and spilled freely. The worst was her right arm, dislocated from its socket with the length of her hand to above the forearm missing.

She attempted to explain, but the words left her lips a garbled mess in the blood pooling inside.

He slid out of bed numbly, dropping to his knees before her. Reaching to him, she touched his warm face with bloodied fingers and a bitter smile. She swallowed painfully, eyes flickering up to the ceiling for a second more difficult flush of pain.

"Haruka?"

_So small. So quiet._

He placed both hands on her bruised hips, the excess blood slid between his fingers. "_Shit_." The anguish in his voice saddened her. It gave her more of a reason to chide herself for accepting their short-lived agreement. His grip tightened, but she felt nothing. He searched her face for the light she knew was dimming, eyes expectant and glazed. "How do I fix this? How do I—Haruka?"

There was another jab at her heart—clenching, suffocating.

_Don't cry, _she wanted to say, but her throat was raw and probably broken. _I'm not real…I'm weakness._

Ichigo forced her weary feet forward, his arms wrapped around her broken body. She sagged against him, holding his head with her remaining hand. Every Arcana must have felt it because she sensed the uproar and heard the sound of Ichigo's sisters rushing to his room with a pull of magnetism.

The door slammed open. Karin was the first in sight. A wide-eyed expression lit her features before she spun around in time to stop Yuzu from entering, but the scent of blood was heavy in the air. Yuzu stifled a sob, uttering her name as Karin continued shooting disbelieving looks over her shoulder.

_Don't cry._

Ichigo clung to her, pinned by the weight of his devastation. And she realized that it should have only been a moment—a single kiss, one final indulgence before she met with her destiny. Death was her destiny. She painted it years ago and it now hung permanently in the art gallery that honored her previous existence. She felt regret now.

For selfishly painting the outcome of the Arcana, for trying to prevent the worst of it, but knowing that the Arcana ended with her—the sacrificial lamb. The journey hit Hanged Man territory, taking from her the biggest sacrifice, to steer quietly onto Death, for change. She made the difference and to grant peace to her tormented Arcana, she would die a thousand times.

In a stretch of black smoke, Kazumasa and Ageha appeared, both stricken by the sight as she offered them a bloody smile. She stretched her hand out to him, mouthing off the words she couldn't endure.

"Nagisa," Ageha uttered, reaching to take her hand. "It is too early. It is too soon to leave the Sun. She has no guidance, no guard."

Kazumasa altered the emotions in the room, filling it with the tranquility she desired and slowly rid her of the pain eating at her life.

Ichigo noticed his sisters by the door. Yuzu was crying and Karin struggling to comfort her. A thousand ideas seemed to flash before his eyes and he drew back, acknowledging Kazumasa and Ageha's presence. He forced himself back onto his feet and she nearly lost her balance, but his hands shot out to her body and hoisted her up. Ageha dropped her hand.

"You can help her," he said, determined. "One of you can heal her. No—get Inoue!" His face brightened, another stab pained her, one that even Kazumasa felt with saddened eyes. "She can do it. Haruka, you'll be fine. She can regenerate your hand and—"

"That's impossible," Ageha interjected. "That girl cannot heal damage inflicted on her body."

His jaw clenched. "Why not? She's healed worse!"

Haruka grabbed his hand, leaning into his chest.

"Black energy can only be healed by black energy."

"Then the Priestess—"

"She'd rather see Haruka to her death than heal her," Ageha said strongly, losing patience.

Kazumasa strained to contain the emotion in the room.

"Someone needs to help her."

Everyone stayed silent.

"What are we supposed to do?" Ichigo demanded, heart hammering in his chest.

Nagata and Touma arrived in a flash, a violent torrent of smoke fluttered behind them and a tangible anger surged in the air. Kazumasa could not suppress it, so he closed his eyes in resignation. They were burning with fury, eyes lit with an insatiable desire for blood and war and revenge.

"I will kill him!" Nagata vowed, everyone in the room felt the chill of his words. "I will take the spine from his body and make him crawl to it! I will make a city of embers of Soul Society!"

Haruka looked to them weary-eyed, feeling death's shadow at her back. "Come," she said, her throat rumbling in pain.

Everyone disappeared, even Yuzu and Karin, but she remained

Ichigo turned her, taking her face in his hands as every part of him ached. She smiled at him, despite the horrific pain she endured, and he kissed her hard. He only tasted blood and felt a cold like death, but he didn't care. He needed to kiss her now that they were alone for just this moment and he did, long and painfully. When he drew back, she attempted to wipe the blood from his mouth, but he ran his sleeve across it, smudging red across his sleeve.

And they were gone.

They reappeared in the endless landscape of her dimension, covered in flowers and overflowing in forests with the smell of the sea clinging to the air. Surrounding them, in opposite sides of each other, were all the Arcana. He saw Ukitake standing beside Muguruma Kensei and behind them Kuchiki Byakuya and Hisagi Shuuhei. To their direct right Arashi and Kouyou were together and behind them The Priestess, Shimana Yuka, and Kazumasa's wife, Faye, further back he spied a terrified looking Keigo. Ichimaru Gin, Grimmjow and Yamaguchi Tomo seemed to be holding him hostage.

Ichigo started toward him, remembering that he was unsafe but heard Haruka's body hit the ground. He stopped, returning to her instead and faced the Housen brothers, burning in white-hot rage. His sisters and Tatsuki were behind them, shielded protectively by Kazumasa. He found Ageha several feet away, between a disgruntled looking Hirako and Aizen.

Silence fell in a thick blanket of regret. Despite the animosity, everyone present showed signs of torment as if Nagisa's death hurt them. Even Yuzu, despite not being an Arcana.

Ageha joined him as he sank down beside her. Haruka's eyes had fluttered shut, lying in a patch of long grass littered in wildflowers.

"She brought you," he said, voice littered in curiosities.

"Yeah, she brought me."

"We will be human," Ageha continued leisurely. "As soon as her heart stops beating and her skin grows cold, everyone you see here will turn human. Our powers will fade as quickly as her life. We will be at our weakest and so she's invited us here to protect us with the last of her power." He shot the opposite army a scalding look. "These ingrates do not appreciate the weight of her sacrifice. They will suffer pain they do not deserve—"

"Making threats Sumizome?" snapped Muguruma.

The interruption awakened something primal in the Hermit's cool countenance as his gaze fell upon the Moon. "I will cleave that head off your shoulders," Ageha vowed, his golden eyes narrowed. "You will rue the day you challenged me."

"I dare you!"

Ukitake stepped in front of him. "Please, he is a peacekeeper but he is also an Evoker."

"Not for long he won't be. Come on!"

Ichigo looked to him.

"In short, the position will be up for grabs—"

"As will her crown," added Arashi with a grin. "I might forgive the buffoon for the insubordination after all."

"The Arcana has a successor. The power will transfer to her directly in a matter of hours."

Arashi shrugged. "That's fine. I have time to kill her for it."

Touma stomped forward. "Try it, pipsqueak! I'll end you!"

Judgment grinned. "Of course, your power will be your own again. How quaint."

"Do not provoke him, Judgment," Kouyou advised. "The Devil will bite your throat out if you allow him."

He laughed, thoroughly amused. "Good. I don't like the weak."

"Who do I need to thank for this outstanding development?" asked Faye, face lit with laughter.

Yuka agreed with the same greedy smile. "She was carved quite spectacularly. I would send them a dozen roses for a job well done."

At a flare of anger, Ichigo felt himself jolt up before Ageha pushed him back into a seat. "No fighting," he chided. "Let the fools speak. They will soon grovel at her feet."

"I'd faster die," Faye spat.

"I'll oblige you."

"Ageha!" cried Kazumasa, defensive of his wife. He faced her. "Faye, please stop this now!"

Impatience crossed Grimmjow's face. "How long does she need to kick the bucket?"

"Shut up!" snapped Tomo, who endured one of his scalding glares. "You have no say in this!"

Ichimaru _tsked_ at them, thoroughly amused.

Soon the entire space was full of their voices making it difficult for him to discern one from the other, but he didn't care. The feeling was finally sinking in Haruka's dropping temperature and he grappled for her, taking her in his arms in the hope that he could warm her to prolong her state. A slur of insults bounded back and forth between the opposing armies, he could hear Hirako insulting Aizen to the high heavens and the burning pits of hell. There were so many curses in the mix that made others cringe and it went on fairly long until Ageha thought to separate them by taking Hirako from the group.

Behind him, he listened to Tatsuki and Nagata talking, except he wasn't doing much of it and when he did, he was the one with the arsenal of insults, branding her with a blame he anticipated was part of old memories. But there was more to their argument.

"Well she can't have him!" he shouted. "He wanted Nagisa! Nagisa is what he got! Your stupid friend can cry—!"

The slap she delivered onto him echoed, drawing everyone's attention to them. Nagata had Tatsuki by the wrist, glowering at her.

"She's my sister," he seethed, emotion peaking. "She's _my_ sister. I will always stand by her. In life, in death, in between, in oblivion. Do I have to tack it to your forehead? Carve it on your back? Tell me what I have to do to make you understand!"

Tatsuki looked stunned.

"Want me to write you a poem?"

Ichigo glimpsed at Haruka's face. Was she…smiling?

The Chariot flushed.

"For fucks sake, just kiss her, you coward!" Kazumasa snapped. "I can't stand it!"

And for the first time, Death looked like a clammy, innocent boy in the presence of the girl of his dreams, but his innocence quickly turned to anger. "The shit is wrong with you?"

Tatsuki stalked away, huffing. She shot everyone a furious glare, cheeks red.

Ageha, Touma and Hirako had taken to circle around them, ensuring no fights broke out. Ichigo had time with Haruka, out of earshot, but in everyone's line of vision. Everyone he had fought as a shinigami looked upon him and saw him look weaker than ever, clinging like a madman to their dying queen. He sat there wishing they had years left, not minutes.

"I bet you know something I don't."

In a soft whisper, she answered, "Always."

Haruka opened her eyes; the gold had given away to the translucent blue.

"Does it hurt?" he strained.

"No," she said slowly, as if in a trance. "Not anymore."

He opened his mouth but closed it.

"Touma will take care of your sisters when you can't. En and Arisawa will get annoying together. And you'll be fine…so stop looking at me like that."

_Looking at you like what?_

"You're not afraid?"

"Afraid of what?"

"Oblivion?"

"Terrified?"

"Isn't there a—"

"Not everything can be fixed, Ichigo," she stated. "This is a hard lesson, but a good one. Learn from it."

"Just stop talking." Every word that left her lips alerted him of her demise. He leaned forward, tightening his hold. "Stop."

She sighed, restless. "I wanted to do so many things to you."

He laughed, his face burning with embarrassment. "You're dying and that's what you have to say?"

"I didn't want to die without a good joke."

A ringing reached his ears, the distant sound echoed dimly over everyone's insults.

"Did you hear that?" he asked quickly.

"Not with Touma's shouting."

Touma was picking a fight with Ichimaru, Grimmjow and Tomo, promising to let them live if they relinquished Keigo. Ichimaru teased him, which only fueled his fire. Grimmjow wanted to fight Touma instinctively. He was the strongest Arcana and Grimmjow wanted to take the title for himself. Tomo reined him in…or tried.

Ichigo searched for the source of the sound as it grew stronger.

"Haruka—"

He gazed at her and his stomach dropped, horrified. A black-boned skeleton had replaced her and as he lifted his eyes, ready to explain to the others, he realized he was surrounded by a group of skeletal figures snapping their jaws at one another before one by one they disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Bit by bit, the beautiful scenery started breaking away, into tiny flecks of color, like a burst of confetti, and the ringing grew louder.

He recognized it.

His phone was ringing.

Suddenly, Ichigo wrenched out of bed, scrambling for the cellphone at his desk. He had been sleeping. Everything had been a dream, but if it had been, why couldn't he feel relieved? Why did it feel as though he were still dreaming? The air was cold and crisp around him and his body was drench in sweat.

He answered the phone. "He—"

"_PUT A FUCKING SWEATER ON NOW!_"

_Click._

Nagata.

Ichigo swung his feet off the bed and into a pair of nearby shoes, heart hammering in his chest when Nagata appeared in the middle of his room, completely enraged.

"Where's your fucking sweater?" he snapped.

"I was getting it right now!"

Nagata shoved him out of the way and pulled one of the many sweaters in his closet. He shoved it into Ichigo's arms.

He tugged his arms through the sleeves clumsily, eyes meeting Nagata's golden orbs. "What about my sisters? The old man's not here, I have to—"

Touma dodged into sight, pale and inscrutable. "I'll take care of them," he announced tonelessly, falling into a seat on the bed. He stifled a sound, a cutting noise that forced him to take his head into his hands.

Ichigo zipped up his sweater. "What happened?"

Nagata grabbed him by the arm and without warning dodged to a mountainous terrain covered in patches of muddled snow, the sky above still with storm clouds crawling over the horizon and a shining round moon. Darkness reined here, wrapping around him like a heavy winter coat.

The sound of Nagata's boots crunching over the tricky terrain drew him towards him and the destruction carved into the ground and mountains behind him. He sensed the black energy as a strong gale bit past him, electrifying, and beyond the heap of shattered boulders, broken mountains and cratered ground, he spotted Ageha holding an orb of light in his hand. The light was dim, but cast enough illumination to highlight the strain in his expression.

Ageha's eyebrows drew. "You brought him here," he bit out, meeting Ichigo's eyes. "For what reason?"

Nagata grumbled an insult to the Hermit.

Ichigo stepped on something that splashed, stilling. He dropped his gaze to the blood staining the ground, Ageha's light made it look as though it were glittering like blood-red rubies.

The awful hammering in his chest seized as he followed the droplets to the edge of the crater where both Arcana had stopped in front of because what he saw below was something his head wouldn't accept. He jumped straight in, though the hole could have been a fifty feet drop, following Ageha's string of orbs lighting the path to the center. His shoes skid against the harsh terrain. He tripped, nearly falling but he somehow threw his balance back until he neared the bottom.

Bile filled his mouth. He lost his footing and tumbled the rest of the way down, hitting the center hard on his face. Every jagged edge or hard rock couldn't make the numbness go away. He lifted his eyes and there she was.

Realization. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

Ichigo scrambled to her, uttering curses as his chest clenched in desperation. He reached to touch her, but she lay motionless. Her pale face was covered in bruises and scrapes, blood poured from her mouth, her lips crimson. There was a deep gash on her, it marred her skin until he could see nothing but torn muscle and a pool of blood. She was missing an arm, cut through just above the forearm and still it looked dislocated.

"Haruka," he whispered, fingers running against her hollowed cheeks. Her flesh was cold. "_Shit._"

The air had been knocked out of him as the dread prickled his skin, running as smooth as poison through his veins. He felt as though someone punched him in the gut, reminding him how powerless he was to stop anything from happening. He couldn't grasp his lessons fast enough. Everyone was doing their part to ensure he was as strong as an Original, but he couldn't even fight one for over five minutes without feeling the strain, he didn't have his sword yet. And Haruka, the center of it all—everyone wanted to be strong enough for her, fumbling for her approval—who could adopt all Arcana abilities at will was lying in this hole…_dead_.

_She's dead_.

_There's so much blood_.

_Why couldn't she heal herself? _

_She can't be dead._

Thoughts shot from all directions in his mind, one after another, until his denial and the truth overlapped and he didn't know what to believe except that Haruka wasn't breathing and there was a pool of blood beneath her.

_She could still have a heartbeat._

Ichigo pressed his ear to her chest, hearing silence until—_thump!_

He jerked back, drawing away. "Nagata! She has a heartbeat! Do something about it!"

Nagata strained to look at him from above and dodge to him, hands wrist deep in his pockets. His face was a chilling mask. "She's dead."

"But—"

Nagata grabbed him by the shoulders. "She's fucking dead, Kurosaki! All you heard was the sound of your own stupid heart beating, but I've been here long enough to confirm she's dead!" he spat. "You want fucking proof! Want to see her name disappear from the list?"

"Why aren't you human?" countered Ichigo. "Nagisa dies and the Arcana turns human until Yuzu inherits her position and she told me it doesn't happen immediately! A new World needs to be born! Your hair is still white, your eyes are yellow, you can dodge and Ageha is using his spiritual energy for these lights! You both radiate black energy! So why can't she be alive?"

Nagata shoved him away.

Ichigo fell on his backside hard. "What the hell?"

"It's because she was a fucking fake!" he raged. "This isn't her! And it makes no fucking sense! She had the powers, she's attacked me with them, I've seen her use them, but she's not Nagisa!"

Ichigo stared at him, speechless. His eyes went to Haruka's body and then to Nagata. It made no sense. "W-what?"

"So where the _fuck _is the real Nagisa?" Nagata shouted at the wind, expecting silence to great him.

"_I'm right here._"

The wind answered back, calm and collected.

Ichigo lifted his eyes as the Ageha's lights flickered and saw two people emerge from the shadows across Ageha. A golden-haired male with a sullen face, who cast a wayward glance at Haruka's destroyed body before turning away, and a woman, taller with long flowing white hair and the same face he remembered from the peony's memories, lit by an orange glow.

Shima and Nagisa. The Fool and The World appeared before them.

Nagisa swept her eyes to Ichigo, cold without emotion. "You."

Thirteen I: **Paroxysm** | **End**

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**Beta**: LULuckyTiger

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**OCTOBER 31 2013 EDIT**: The sequel, Solstice, is now available!

**xl**: Thirteen Part 1 has come to a close and it has been a lengthy journey since the start of this story. Two years. Two years. Damn. And to think this is just the beginning. Paroxysm is just the tip of the iceberg with the Thirteen series. There is more to come, two more parts, and I hope my readers will stay with me a little while more so I can finish answering all your questions.

Thank you to **makkakaus** and **ruler of dragons **for reviewing the previous chapter!

I am later going to write an entry at my LJ for the "D" chapters. I never said it, but the "D" stands for Doomsday and a countdown for a war that is yet to happen. So, let me explain how things will work with the part 2 (or the sequel to Paroxysm):

1. Thirteen 2 is called **Solstice** and it is set to be the shortest part in the trilogy, but a lot is going to happen in order to prepare you for the last installment.

2. I am officially changing the title of this to Paroxysm and putting a "Thirteen series" in the summary.

3. Because I don't want to reveal too much about what the **Solstice **entails, I will tell you that we will be going into Oblivion, the Arcana Hell, and the summary will be as cryptic as this one: _I__n death she calls and in life he answers._

With that said, I want to thank everyone that has favorited, followed, and reviewed this story because I stepped into writing this being a complete pessimist. I never expected follows or favorites or reviews because it was an IchigoOC pairing and you know that's hard to do, so I walked in with no expectations and just my imagination. I leave with a humble audience and a whooping 100+ reviews and gosh, I remember everything said and every question and every words of encouragements and every suggestion and constructive criticism I have ever received for this story and there are honestly no words I can use to describe how thankful I have been for every little thing.

This story has been so special to me, I have always been rooting for it, and it has always been a pleasure to write and I know that part 1 just ended and there are 2 more, but it is still very sad and ruler of dragons has been making me sadder.

And I always feel dumb writing these notes at the end of a story, but I mean it!

Thank you for reading this chapter, this story, this long note! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I hope to see you in **Solstice**!

If you have questions, please feel free to ask them! If you want spoilers, I will give you one!


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